


For Want of a Nail

by Nightfoot



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: M/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:58:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 81,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7955917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfoot/pseuds/Nightfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flynn has been acting pretty weird lately.  He's given commands of dubious morality and Yuri isn't even sure if he trusts him anymore. Maybe he's stressed.  Maybe his convictions are slipping. Or maybe there's something even more nefarious going on. Whatever it is, Yuri's determined to get to the bottom of this, and maybe also catch the serial killer wreaking havoc in the lower quarter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

This was going to end in disaster, Flynn thought as he watched Yuri lean over the side of the road and try to reach the river.  They’d seen something shiny glint in the barrier light and Yuri had become determined to find out what it was.  Flynn said it was probably just an old belt buckle, but Yuri had gotten the idea it was a lost treasure and refused to give it up.  He lay on his stomach, the lip of the road digging into his gut as he reached for the thing caught against a brick that jutted an inch out of the wall.  

“Can you tell what it is yet?” Flynn sat away from the river, leaning against a pillar of the covered walkway.  Overhead, the barrier provided more light than the moon, which was nothing but a narrow sliver.  It was the first warm night of spring and Flynn stretched his legs, enjoying the chance to relax.  He’d been washing dishes in the Comet all day to earn their keep, and finally getting to relax a few blocks away was heavenly.  He missed the time when he and Yuri could spend all day playing together without a responsibility in the world, but they didn’t have that childhood luxury anymore. At thirteen, they were practically grown-ups now.  

Which was why it irritated him that adults still acted like he was a kid.  Just today, he’d noticed a cook and a server chatting in low voices in the corner of the kitchen.  Flynn had turned the water off just in time to hear something about, “…and blood all over, I just can’t believe…” before they noticed he was listening and clammed up.  

“Not yet.”  Yuri scooted forward another inch.  “Just… a little… more - whoa!” Gravity took over and dragged Yuri over the edge of the road and into the river with a splash.  

Flynn leapt to his feet and dashed to the edge.  “Are you ok?”

Yuri sputtered and shivered as he tread water.  “F-fine.  I don’t think the river knows winter is over, though.”

Flynn got on his knees and reached a hand down to Yuri.  “I told you not to bother.”

Yuri grabbed the shiny thing now that he was eye-level with it.  “Look, money!  I told you it was worth it.”

Flynn squinted to see in the darkness.  “That’s one gald.  It’ll buy you… a piece of charcoal, maybe, if you get a good deal.  Worth it?”

Yuri tucked it in his pocket before reaching for Flynn’s outstretched hand.  “Maybe it’ll be a lucky coin.”

They clasped hands and Flynn pulled.  Yuri kicked against the rough wall to help pull himself up and then he collapsed in a soaking heap on the road.  Flynn jerked away just before he landed to avoid getting soaked himself.    Sitting up, Yuri hugged himself and shuddered.  “Man, it’s freezing.”

“It is not.  It’s a perfectly nice evening.”

“Fine for you, but I’m soaking wet.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Yuri threw himself at Flynn.  “Warm me up.” He pressed against a struggling Flynn as his wet hair dampened Flynn’s shirt.

“Ah - Yuri - dammit!” Flynn finally managed to wriggle free and then Yuri sat back, laughing.  He wiped moisture from his cheek with a scowl.  “Thanks for nothing.”

Yuri grinned at him and then jumped to his feet.  “Brr.  Let’s head back home.”

“No.  It’s still a perfectly nice night and you wouldn’t be cold if you hadn’t been stupid.”  Flynn had been at the Comet all day and he wasn’t keen on spending his relaxing time there, too.  

“Aw, c’mon.  I’m cold and I want to take a shower before the stench of river gets embedded in my hair.”

Flynn crossed his arms.  The innkeeper had warned them not to stay out too late and to stay together, but it was the same warning Flynn’s mom gave them when they were little.  Frankly, he felt he and Yuri were old enough to be alone at night, whether adults recognized their age or not.  “I won’t stop you from going back, but I’m staying out here.  I’m not having my evening ruined by your stupidity again.”

Yuri leaned down and grabbed Flynn’s arm.  “Come ooooon, there’s nothing to do back home without you.  Let’s go back to our room and play cards.”

Flynn half-heartedly tried to pull his arm back as Yuri tugged on it.  “We did that all winter.  Now that the weather’s nice, I’d rather stay outside and enjoy it.”

“C’mon, Flynn.  Please?”

Flynn stared back at his pleading eyes.  His pale face was framed by wet, bedraggled hair that made him look like a wet dog.  Half of Flynn stubbornly wanted to sit down here by the river and enjoy the quiet night without his idiot friend causing a ruckus.  The other half (the half that was partly fuelled, he was sure, by the way his stomach did weird fluttery things when he looked at Yuri lately, though he hadn’t worked out exactly why that was) wanted to join him back at the Comet.  The two desires warred until finally Flynn heaved a sigh and said, “Ok, fine, we can go back.”

Yuri smiled and pulled Flynn the rest of the way to his feet.  Half a block away, they crossed the little bridge and then backtracked toward the Comet.  The road took them along the river, parallel to where they’d been sitting before.  As they walked, Yuri wrapped his arm around Flynn.  

“I’m sure glad you’re coming with me.  I can use your body heat to keep me warm.”

“Get off me.”  Flynn tried to shove him off as they detoured away from the river to pass around a building on its edge.  A taller building on the left blocked the light from the barrier, casting the narrow road into darkness.  A few blocks ahead was a staircase leading away from the river and to the more populated parts of the lower quarter, but down here it was just them and one other resident walking a little ways behind them.

“But you’re so warm.”  Yuri hugged him tighter while Flynn was starting to regret agreeing to accompany him.  

They stopped in the middle of the road so Flynn could try to wrench Yuri off of him.  Yuri did his best to get Flynn as wet as possible by clinging to him and pressing his wet hair against Flynn’s shoulder.  

“Argh!  Stop it, Yuri!”  Flynn gave a mighty shove and Yuri stumbled backward, still laughing.  He crashed right into the man who had caught up with them while they struggled. 

“Whoa!  Sorry, mister,” Yuri said.  

The man caught Yuri before he fell.  “Be careful, young man.” He helped him right himself.  “You ought to watch where you’re going in the dark.”

“It was my friend’s fault.  He pushed me.”

“He started it,” Flynn declared, not at all happy with being blamed.  “He keeps trying to hug me.”  He realized how lame this sounded before he finished saying it.  “And he… um….”  Flynn hung his head.  “Sorry.”

The man chuckled.  “It’s quite all right.  Have a nice night, boys.”

Flynn and Yuri didn’t immediately follow.  They waited for him to get far enough ahead before Flynn rounded on Yuri.  “Look what you made me do!”

“I didn’t make you do anything.  You made your own choices.”

“Choices I only made because you were being a prat.”

Yuri was still laughing, which didn’t improve Flynn’s mood.  “Come on, let’s go home.  I’m freezing!”

Still annoyed and seriously considering ditching Yuri to enjoy the night alone, Flynn followed him home.  

* * *

 

 

In the darkness, Flynn opened his eyes.  He shivered, but it had nothing to do with a soaping wet Yuri like the one in his memory.  Flynn squeezed his eyes shut before reopening them, for all the good that did.  He hadn’t thought about that evening in years.  He wasn’t even sure why he remembered it at all beyond being one of those random snippets of life.  What about that night had been important?  Flynn took a deep breath and tried to make himself more comfortable, an impossible feat on the hard floor.  Why in the world would anyone be interested in an evening where nothing had happened?  

He took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes again.  What did it matter?  He was exhausted and his time would be better spent trying to get some sleep.  

 


	2. Not Quite Right

It was pouring rain when they arrived in Zaphias.  Yuri had pulled his vest off and held it over his head in an attempt to keep from drowning.  Ba’ul dropped them off and then took off to find shelter while the members of Brave Vesperia dashed into the city.  The streets of the lower quarter were deserted, largely because they currently had more in common with the river than with a road.  Yuri’s vest had kept him moderately dry for the first few minutes of the run, but by now he was holding a heavy, water-laden cloth over his head that only served to trap water and then drip it down his neck in cold, fat globs.  They splashed along the road and up the steps to Yuri’s room with relief. 

Judith slammed his door shut behind him.  After the torrents assaulting them outside, his room seemed extra dry and still.  Karol shivered and hugged himself while Yuri tossed his soaking vest over a chair and stood by the window to water the road outside the Comet turn into a shallow, swift-running river.  

Behind him, Karol said, “Oh, no, Repede, don’t -”

Yuri turned around to the sound of Karol shouting in displeasure and Repede whipping his fur back and forth in a vigorous shake.  Karol gave the dog a tired sigh as fresh drops of water trickled down his face.  

“Wet enough for you, Captain?” Yuri asked.  “Here, I’ve got towels.”  He dug them out of a cupboard and tossed one each to Judith and Karol.  The third one he took to Repede and then threw it over him as he knelt.  “Don’t give me that look.”  He rubbed the towel up and down Repede’s back.  “You’re not going to stink up this place with your wet fur.”  Repede huffed but consented to the towelling.  

“Thanks, Yuri.”  Karol wore his towel like a cloak.  “Man, I thought we were going to drown out there.”

“No harm done.”  Judith tossed her towel to the chair with Yuri’s vest.  “Water never melted anybody.  Are we going to get another room, or do you want us all to cram onto your bed?”

“I’ll ask the innkeeper to give me a key for the room next door.”  Yuri stood up when Repede was sufficiently dry.  His fur still sticking up, Repede sulked to his usual spot at the foot of Yuri’s bed and curled up with a disgruntled growl.  “How long do you think we’ll be staying, Captain?”

Karol rubbed his chin.  “Hm… hard to say.  We don’t have any missions lined up right now, but we won’t get any until we go back to Dahngrest.  How long do you want to visit?”

Yuri shrugged.  Their guild was still less than a year old, so he didn’t want to hold them up for too long.  But, he hadn’t been to Zaphias in a couple of months and he wanted to see how the lower quarter was getting along.  Plus, he hadn’t seen Flynn for more than a few minutes at a time since… he had to think to remember when they’d last had time for a proper conversation.  It would have been the victory party right after they defeated the Adephagos, which was nearly six months ago now.  “How about a week or two?  Is that too long?”

“That sounds good.”  Judith stood by the sink in the doorway of Yuri’s tiny bathroom, wringing out her long antennas of hair.  “We’ve been working nonstop for ages..  I could do with a break.”

Yuri pulled out a jacket from his dresser.  It wasn’t as useful as the fancy ones treated with water-proof oil that the nobles up in the royal quarter had, but it was better than nothing and at least it had a hood.  “I’ll go get a room for you guys and then I’m going up to the castle.”

“We can come too,” Karol said.  “I can’t wait to see Estelle again.”

“She isn’t there.”  Judith left the bathroom, slightly dryer.  “She’s in Halure with Rita.”

Karol’s smile fell.  “Oh, that’s right.  You’re just going to see Flynn, then?”

Yuri nodded.  “You’re welcome to tag along if you want.”

“Let him go, Karol.”  Judith sat on the edge of Yuri’s bed.  “I’m sure Yuri wants some alone time with Flynn.”

Yuri looked back at her.  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She smiled at him knowingly, which was annoying because he wasn’t sure what she was implying she knew.  

“Whatever.” He shook his head.  “I’ll probably be back late, if at all. If I’m not back by tomorrow afternoon, assume I drowned.”  Repede raised his head as Yuri opened the door, but he said, “You stay here, Repede.  The last thing Flynn wants is a soaking wet dog in his office, I’m sure.”  

Outside, Yuri braced himself to leave the protective overhang and then dashed into the wet evening.  Even with his hood pulled over his head, he felt waterlogged by the time he reached the castle.  He’d splashed through enough puddles to make his feet squelch with every step and water dripped around the side of his hood to trickle down his face.  Luckily, the knights on guard (lurking in alcoves by the gate to avoid the rain themselves) recognized him and didn’t make him stand in the rain waiting for permission to enter the castle.

Inside, Yuri pulled the hood off and shook just like Repede had done.  He made his way to Flynn’s office carefully, because the slick floors were dangerous enough when his shoes were dry.  As he neared Flynn’s office, he overheard two familiar voices around the corner, speaking in angry voices clearly above a whisper.

“...completely inappropriate,” Sodia was saying.  “It’s not your place to question his decisions.”

“I’ll question any decision I want,” Leblanc replied.  He wasn’t quite as good at keeping his voice down.  “If every knight blindly followed the commandant, we’d still be taking orders from Alexei.”

Sodia sounded insulted. “Commandant Flynn is nothing like Alexei.  Has he not proven himself worth following?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t question-”

“You can question all you like, but you can’t march into his office and demand explanations. It’s unprofessional.”

Yuri rounded the corner before Leblanc could reply.  Sodia saw him and straightened up.  

“Oh, Yuri Lowell.  I wasn’t expecting you.”

Leblanc turned as well.   “Good evening.  Are you here to turn yourself in for something and save me the trouble of chasing you?”

Yuri smirked back at him.  “And deprive you of the fun of the hunt?  I would never.  Is Flynn in?”

Leblanc was about to speak, but Sodia cut in.  “Yes, he is.  He’s fairly busy lately, but he should have a few minutes to spare.  Leblanc, do you not have duties elsewhere in the castle?”

Leblanc hesitated, his face tense.  He gave Flynn’s office door a last glance, and then stomped away.

When he was gone, Yuri looked back to Sodia.  “Trouble in paradise?”

Sodia sniffed and stood at attention.  “Commandant Flynn has been working very hard to pull the Empire together in the months since he took the post.  Some people,” and her tone made it very clear what she thought of those people, “question some of his decisions and seem to be upset that the commandant was not able to make an immediate utopia.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow.  “Just what kind of decisions are we talking about?”

“Nothing unreasonable.  The commandant is very busy and the last thing he needs is someone dragging him into arguments about his choices or ignoring his authority within the Empire.”  Her glare told him that her words were aimed directly at him.

Yuri rolled his eyes and waved his hand.  “Flynn and I have already worked things out, thanks.  I’ll let him deal with the Knights and I’ll deal with guilds.  I’m just here to say hi, not start a debate.”  Before she could further reprimand him for things he hadn’t even done yet, he walked past her and burst through the door.  

Flynn jumped when he entered.  He’d been sitting at his desk and his head jerked up.  Instead of cracking into a smile or a glower of annoyance, he just stared at Yuri for a solid three seconds, one hand still holding his pen poised over the paper.

“Yo.”  Yuri crossed the room quickly, not minding the wet footprints he left in his wake.  

Sodia appeared in the doorway right behind him.  “I’m sorry, sir.  I told him you were in but I didn’t tell him he could barge in without announcement.”  Yuri could tell by her tone that she was glaring at his back.  

“It’s quite all right,” Flynn said, finally dragging his eyes from Yuri. 

“Also, sir, Lord Avondale requested a meeting with you as soon as possible.  Should I find room for him or put it off until next month?”

Flynn rolled his eyes.  “Don’t make it a priority.  I know exactly what he’s going to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, sir.”  

Once Sodia left, Flynn stood and turned his attention back to Yuri.  “Yuri.  It’s… good to see you.”

“What’s with you? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Flynn shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  “Sorry.  Long day.  I wasn’t expecting you.”  He rounded the desk and then stopped in front of Yuri, finally noticing the puddle accumulating at his feet.  “You’re soaked.”

“Well you see, Flynn, there’s this thing called ‘rain’.”

An unreadable emotion crossed Flynn’s face, but then Yuri grabbed him and pulled him against his dripping chest.  “Ah! Yuri!”

“Good to see you.”  Yuri crushed him in a hug that transferred a good deal of water from his coat to Flynn’s uniform.  “Stop wriggling away; I’m being affectionate.”

“No, you’re trying to get me wet!”  

Yuri expected Flynn to be cross with him, but instead Flynn burst into laughter.  He stopped trying to get away and instead returned the hug, squeezing Yuri tightly and struggling to stop laughing.  Thoroughly put-out that he wasn’t annoying Flynn, Yuri released him.

Flynn stepped back and wiped a tear from his eye.  “It’s good to see you again, Yuri.”

Yuri shrugged off the affectionate words.  “I just saw you at a meeting in Dahngrest last month.”

“Yes, but… oh, never mind.”  He leaned against his desk.  “How long are you in town?”

“A week or so.  I just came to say hi.  I can leave if you’re busy.”

Flynn waved his hand.  “No, no, it’s fine.  I’m usually off work by this hour anyway, but I’ve been busy.”

The sky outside the window was dark from the storm clouds, but even without them it would be getting pretty grey by now.  “Does it have something to do with that lord Sodia mentioned?”

“That’s part of it.  He’s the warden of a prison, but I recently shut it down for being inhumane.  He’s fairly angry and keeps trying to convince me to open it again.”

“Any chance of that happening?”

“I can’t cave to his demands. It would look foolish, plus set a terrible precedent.  Anyway, how have you been? You’re working in your guild, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Sit down and tell me all about it.”  Flynn gestured to the chair across from his desk.  “I have time.”

Yuri lounged in the chair across from his desk.  “What do you want to know?”

Flynn leaned forward and folded his hands.  “Everything.”

They might have talked for hours.  Flynn listened with rapt attention as Yuri described all the missions Brave Vesperia had run, even the mundane delivery jobs where no monsters were fought at all.  He was a great listener, showing surprise and admiration at all the right places, and asking questions to keep the stories going.  They eventually stopped when Yuri leaned back and yawned.

“Sorry, Flynn. I’m pooped, and I still need to get back to the Comet tonight.”

Flynn looked over his shoulder at the rain pounding against the windows.  “You want to walk all the way there?  You could spend the night at my house, if you want.  It’s closer.  

Yuri stifled a yawn. “Yeah, sure, that sounds nice.  You ready to go?”

Flynn nodded and packed away his things.  The pair of them left the castle together and huddled under a shared umbrella on the short walk from the castle to Flynn’s house.  It was raining so heavily that both of them got fairly wet regardless, and Yuri was glad to reach the covered stoop of Flynn’s narrow townhouse.  

They kicked off their wet shoes in the entrance and Yuri reached a hand to his hair to squeeze out the water after hanging his coat by the door. Flynn’s house was delightfully warm and dry.  He’d only visited Flynn’s new place a couple of times, so it didn’t yet feel homey, and Yuri was sure part of that was how meticulously clean Flynn kept his house at all times.  According to Flynn, leaving a glass on the coffee table overnight would actually kill you.

“Make yourself at home,” Flynn said with a big smile.  “Do you want any supper?”

“Are you offering to cook for me?” Yuri chuckled.  “I’m not suicidal, Flynn.”

Flynn pouted.  “I could make some simple sandwiches….”

Before Yuri could remind him of the disastrous peanut butter and ham sandwiches Flynn had once given him, a loud  _ clank-clank-clank! _ boomed out of the vent by the basement door.  

“What was that?” Yuri asked.

Flynn rolled his eyes.  “A clinker in the furnace.  I was excited that this house had a coal furnace when I bought it, because I’m used to wood fires, but now that we’re getting into fall and I’m actually using it…”  He sighed and shook his head as the pipes from the basement gave another loud clank.  “There’s a chunk of coal banging around down there.  You can go get ready for bed.  Help yourself to spare pyjamas in my bedroom.”

“Sure thing.”  Yuri left Flynn to sort out the furnace and took off for the master bedroom upstairs.  In Flynn’s dresser, he found baggy pants and an old t-shirt.  He had to tie the drawstring to keep the pants from slipping; Flynn had always been bulkier than him.  

Instead of going immediately to the guest bedroom, Yuri threw himself on Flynn’s bed.  Of course, it had been made neatly this morning.  He pressed his face into the pillow and breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of armour polish, bland ivory soap, and familiar sweat.  Flynn’s house was sterile and unfamiliar, but his bed was all Flynn.  After a long day of travelling, curling up in a soft bed that made him think of Flynn was heaven.

A few minutes later, Flynn himself appeared in the doorway.  “You look cozy.”

“I like your bed.”  He rolled over and sat up.  “Furnace behaving?”

“I beat it into submission, yes.”

Yuri  rose from the bed.  “The guest bedroom’s straight down the hall, right?”

“Yes.”  Flynn hesitated for a moment.  “Um… you could stay here, if you want.  I wouldn’t mind.  Only if you want to, of course.”

“No way, I wouldn't kick you out of your own bed.”

“I meant… never mind, sorry, the guest bed is already made.”

“Cool, thanks.  See you tomorrow.”  Yuri left and flopped down on the bed in the other room.  The sheets on this one smelled like starch rather than Flynn, and he wasn’t really sure why that disappointed him so much.  

  
  
  


* * *

 

When Yuri woke up, it took him a few seconds to remember where he was.  He was in an unfamiliar room and lying under a flowery bedspread.  It looked nothing like his room in the Comet, and then he remembered coming home with Flynn the night before.  Yuri sat up and stretched his arms above his head.  The room was silent, so he assumed the rain had stopped sometime over the night.  

He had just gotten dressed when a knock came to the door and then Flynn came in with a tray.  “Good morning,” he said.  “I made you breakfast.”

Yuri eyed the tray with suspicion.  It appeared that Flynn had tried to make poached eggs, but they were wrinkled and flat.  Yuri had once told Flynn that the trick to getting poached eggs right was to add a bit of vinegar to make the whites stick together, but Flynn had taken that to mean he should dump vinegar into the pot until they were perfect and every time he messed up, the solution was more vinegar.  At this point, Yuri suspected he cooked them in boiled vinegar, and did so until the liquid had almost all cooked away and left him with leathery lumps of vinegar-drenched protein.  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not really hungry.”

“Sit down.  I made them for you.”

“I know, but like I said, I’m not hungry.”  He stepped to the doorway, but Flynn blocked the exit.  This close, he could see that the eggs hadn’t turned out any better than he feared.  At least he didn’t smell vinegar, so maybe he’d finally toned that down.  

“You’re not even going to try them?”

“Flynn, I’ve tried your eggs many times before.  I’m not hungry enough to put myself through that again.”

Yuri teased Flynn about his cooking frequently.  Flynn had accepted a long time ago that if cooking was an art, he was a finger-painter.  When Yuri commented on its state of edibility, he generally laughed, or pouted, or cheerfully assured him that this time he didn’t mix up the salt and sugar.  What didn’t happen was Flynn getting angry, except that it did this time.  

“So you’re just going to turn your nose up at it?”  He glowered at Yuri, still blocking the doorway.  “You didn’t even try it.”

Yuri’s eyes turned down to the lumpy, overcooked eggs on the plate.  “I really don’t think I have to.”

“I went to all that work to try to do something nice for you, and this is how you repay me?  I never thought you’d be such an inconsiderate guest.”

“Geeze, what’s got your panties in a twist?”  Since when had he ever been a ‘guest’ when staying with Flynn?  Sure, this wasn’t his house, but he and Flynn had a long standing precedent of treating each other’s houses as home no matter what.  “I’ll eat the damn eggs if it means so much to you.”

“Forget it.  You clearly don’t want them.  Don’t burden yourself with such a difficult task.”  He whirled around and marched back down to the kitchen.

Yuri watched him go and muttered, “What’s with him?”  Must not have slept well, he concluded as he headed downstairs himself.  

* * *

  
  


Yuri returned to the royal quarter a bit before noon.  He’d spent the morning catching up with Hanks and was looking forward to seeing Flynn once he’d hopefully mellowed out.  So far, the day had held off on dumping another ocean on Zaphias, but the slate-grey clouds casting the city in a dull grey warned that the option wasn’t off the table.  

The knights on guard at the castle knew Yuri and had been instructed by both Flynn and Estelle to let him in without question, but that privilege hadn’t been offered to all citizens.  For example, the woman currently arguing with the knight by the main entrance had clearly not been given an invitation to enter.  

“Look, you can see I don’t have any weapons on me.”  She spread her arms and showed her dagger-free dress, which was of a simple cut but with fine enough fabric that she must be wealthy.  “It’s not like I’m here to assassinate the commandant.”

The guard peered through his helmet at her.  “That’s a mighty specific denial.”

“What do you want me to say?!”  She had short auburn hair that didn’t seem to agree with the dampness in the air.  “Please, I just want to talk to Commandant Flynn.”

“I know, lady, you’ve said.  But you don’t have an appointment and I can’t let in just anybody off the streets.  Oh, hello, Lowell.  Here to see the commandant?”

Yuri drew level with the arguing pair.  “That’s right.  What’s going on here?”

“Nothing serious,” the knight said, but the woman spoke over him.

“I need to speak with Commandant Flynn about a very serious issue.  It will only take a few minutes!”

The knight sighed.  “Look, lady, I’ve told you.  If you want to speak to the commandant, submit a request for a meeting and he’ll fit you into his schedule as soon as he can.  He’s a busy guy.”

Yuri took in the woman’s piteous face and said, “Aw, c’mon, a few minutes can’t hurt, right?  I’m about to meet Flynn for lunch.  Let her tag along with me and she can have a few minutes to pitch her case while we get going.”

The knight deliberated this for a moment, and then seemed to decide he was bored of arguing about it.  “Suit yourself.  Make sure she stays with you - she isn’t free to roam around the castle.”

“Got it.”  Yuri waved for her to follow him.  “Come on, I’ll show you to his office.”

“Thank you, thank you,” she gushed as she hurried up the steps after him. 

“It’s no problem.  I’m Yuri by the way.  You?”

“Lenore.”  Inside the castle, she followed Yuri down the hallway toward the commandant’s office.   “You’re a real lifesaver.  I’ve been trying to find time to talk to the commandant, but his assistant keeps saying he’s busy.”

Yuri felt the need to defend him.  “He is busy.  Flynn overworks himself as it is and he’s got a butt-load of responsibilities.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lenore rushed to say.  “I understand that.  If I may ask, how is it that you are able to meet with him so casually?  Forgive me for saying it, but you don’t appear to be a high-ranking government official.”

Yuri laughed.  “I’ll take that as a compliment.  Anyway, Flynn’s an old friend of mine.”

“Oh!” she gasped.  “You’re that friend, aren’t you?  Everyone heard the story, of course.  About an old friend of the commandant’s running off with the princess and helping them save the world.”

“That’s me.”  He was a little amused at hearing he’d ‘helped’ Flynn and Estelle save the world, but at least his friends weren’t here to get offended on his behalf and insist he did far more than help.  “So what’s the issue you need to talk to Flynn about?”

Lenore’s excitement at meeting a near-celebrity faded from her face.  “It’s about my husband.  He’s been very upset lately, you see.  The commandant forced him to close his business.  My own business interests are keeping us afloat financially, but without his job to distract him, he’s done nothing but mope around the house.”

“What kind of business?” Yuri couldn’t imagine Flynn shutting a business down for no reason and he was beginning to wonder if he’d made the right decision in giving this woman a shot with Flynn.

“He worked in the corrections industry.”

Yuri stopped and swivelled around to face her.  “Hold on. This isn’t about that prison, is it?  The one Flynn shut down for being inhumane?  What’s your last name?  Aver….Avon…”  He snapped his fingers trying to think of the name.

“It’s Lenore Avondale, and-”

“That’s it, yep.  Flynn said he shut your husband’s prison down because he was treating the inmate’s like crap.”

“Well - maybe - but still-”  She fidgeted with her dress.  “I don’t know what happened at the prison, ok?  Don’t look at me like that!  I never went to my husband’s prison.  I had no business there and a prison is not a pleasant place so I saw no reason to pop in, so stop looking at me like I personally tortured criminals.  Maybe James did treat prisoners badly, but Commandant Flynn should at least give him a chance to reform the prison rather than shut it down entirely!  Now James has lost his livelihood and he’s been so distraught.  I feel wretched seeing him so bored with nothing to occupy himself anymore, and-”

Yuri held up a hand.  “I don’t entirely care that your husband is sad because he’s not allowed to torture people anymore.  I shouldn’t have brought you here in the first place.  Oi!”  He shouted at a knight at the end of the hall.  “Come show this lady to the door, will you?!”

“You don’t understand!  It’s important that I talk to the commandant.”

“Don’t waste your breath.  I told you I was one of Flynn’s old friends, so trust me.  I know what he’ll say, and if he shut you down for being inhumane, I doubt there’s anything you can do to show him your husband deserves to get his prison back.”

The knight placed a hand on her shoulder.  “All right, Miss, come with me quietly.”

“No, please,” Lenore gave Yuri a desperate look.  “I just need to explain to the commandant-”

“I don’t care.”  Yuri turned away and gave her a little wave as the knight escorted her away.  He felt stupid for letting her follow him in the first place.  What a piece of work.  Was he really supposed to feel sympathy for someone who had lost their job due to be an abusive bastard?  Her poor husband, so bored because he wasn’t allowed to abuse people anymore.  Ugh.  

He reached Flynn’s office and barged in.  Flynn was standing by one of his tall windows, gazing out at the city.  He startled when Yuri walked in and jerked around, reaching for his sword.

“Oh.  It’s you.  A knock would have been nice.”

“Life’s too short to waste time knocking.  Anyway, what’re you doing?”

“Just… thinking.”  He walked away from the window and met Yuri by his desk.  The only light in the office was what little sunlight broke through the clouds and through the windows, making the room a stale grey.  “Are you ready for lunch?”

“Starving.  Where do you plan to eat?”

Flynn glanced at his desk.  “I don’t have much time.  Do you mind getting something quick at the castle kitchen?”

“Fine with me.”

As they walked away from the office, Yuri filled Flynn in on his encounter with Lenore Avondale.  

“Disgusting,” Flynn said when Yuri had finished.  “The Avondales have been trying to convince me to let them have their prison back since the moment I closed it.  It’s getting quite irritating.”

“Any idea how to shut them up?”

“I could find some charge to arrest them on and see how they like being in prison.”

Yuri chuckled a little at that, but his laughter faded quickly when he noticed Flynn didn’t join in with an amused smile of his own.  “Yeah, you could…” Yuri said warily.  “But, I mean… you wouldn’t.  That’s unethical.”

Flynn shrugged.  “What’s unethical about arresting someone for something they’ve done?  I wouldn’t make up a false charge, but everyone is guilty of something.  Especially nobles like the Avondales.  I don’t know what, but I’m sure there’s at least one skeleton in their closet I could lock them up for.  I just have to find it.”

“The hell?  You’re not supposed to go looking for wrong-doing.”

“Sure I am.  That’s my job.  Find the wrong-doers and bring them to justice.”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between finding people who are actively causing harm and digging up dirt on someone from years ago just because you have a grudge.”

Flynn turned his head to Yuri.  “Are you upset with me?”

Yuri’s expression was incredulous.  “Am I…?  Damn right I’m upset with you!  Finding a reason to punish someone just because you’re annoyed with them is just… that’s the kind of thing Alexei would do.”

“Hm….”  Flynn’s face was pensive, but he didn’t say anything.

Yuri sighed, wondering how he’d managed to get into another feud with Flynn today.  He wanted to visit Flynn because they were friends and enjoyed hanging out, but so far today they just kept irritating each other.  “I know it’s hypocritical of me to talk about ethical ways to enforce laws, but I just don’t like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I don’t like the idea of you arresting Lenore Avondale just to shut her up.”

“No, not that.  Why would it be hypocritical?”

“Well… you know.  Ragou and Cumore.”

“Oh.  Right.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

Flynn noded slowly.  “Yes.  Just stressed from work.  Sorry if I’m a little out of it.  Anyway, you’re right.  I wouldn’t actually arrest James and Lenore Avondale.  I just meant, I  _ could _ , but I won’t.”

“Ok.  Good.”  That hadn’t seemed like a simple thought experiment, though.  He thought back to what Leblanc had said yesterday about Flynn making questionable decisions and resolved to ask Leblanc for more details the next time they met.  

* * *

 

It was the next day and all the rain the sky had held in the previous day was being dumped on the city in buckets.  Yuri and Karol sat by a window in the Comet, watching blobs of water race down the glass.  

“C’mon… faster…” Yuri muttered as his chosen raindrop collided with another and absorbed greater mass.  This slowed it down for a second, but then its added weight made it roll down the window faster.

“Go, go, go!” Karol cheered at his own raindrop.  

The two drops veered toward each other as they neared the bottom of the window.  Yuri tapped on the glass above his to try to speed it up, but Karol yelled at him for cheating.  Then Karol’s drop leaned to the left, following the trail of an earlier rain drop.  This trail led it straight to Yuri’s and the two raindrops merged into one giant blob just before hitting the windowsill.

“Uh…” Karol said.

“All right! I win.”

“No you didn’t.  It was a tie.”

“Mine ate yours.  That’s as much of a win as you can get.”

“No, mine took yours over.”

“Dream on.  Mine was bigger.”

Karol crossed his arms.  “Let’s just call it a tie.”

“Fine, fine… if it makes you feel better.”

Karol was about to argue more, but then the innkeeper came by with a plate of chicken fingers and rice.  Karol’s attention turned to their food and the race was forgotten.  Karol ate happily, while Yuri chewed slowly with his eyes out the window.  There wasn’t much to see on the dark street except his own reflection staring back.

“Hey, Yuri, are you feeling ok?”

“Hm?”  He looked away from himself.  “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you were so excited to visit with Flynn again, but now you’re having dinner with me instead of him.”

“So?”  He speared a piece of chicken on his fork.  “We’re friends, aren’t we?  Why wouldn’t I want to have dinner with you?”

“We see each other all the time.  I’m not saying I don’t  _ like _ spending time with you, but I thought you’d be with Flynn again tonight.”

Yuri chewed to avoid having to answer right away.  Flynn’s behaviour yesterday had really disconcerted him and he wasn’t eager to spend more time with him and give him another chance to irritate him.  “Flynn’s busy.  Besides, he’s really… stressed lately.”  That was the word he’d use.  Stressed.  It was the best explanation.

“Is everything ok?”

“Flynn’s acting like an ass, if you must know.”  The last time he’d been so concerned with Flynn’s behaviour, it was because he was in too deep following Alexei’s orders.  Flynn was the commandant now, and with Ioder out of town he had no one to immediately answer to.  That meant there was no one else to blame his actions on, but maybe it meant the added stress was weighing him down.  

Karol rubbed his chin.  “It’s too bad Estelle’s out of town.  She said she sees him a lot and having a friend around all the time probably makes it easier.”

“Yeah, maybe he just misses her.”  Yuri felt a distant twinge of resentment at the idea that Estelle could keep Flynn calm but he couldn’t.  He ignored this.  

Outside, Yuri spotted movement through the rain.  Dim lamplight gleamed on wet armour as a knight, head-bowed, hurried down the street.  Yuri got a better look and recognized the burly shape of Leblanc.  

“Hey, wait here a minute.  I want to talk to someone.”  Yuri grabbed a paper napkin and wrapped up a few pieces of warm chicken, then threw his hooded coat on and ran out into the rain.  The torrents did their best to drench him, so he ran and splashed up the stairs to the main square.  For a second he thought he’d lost him, and then spotted Leblanc taking refuge by the pillared overhang along the edge of the square.  

Leblanc reached for his sword when he spotted the hooded figure approach him out of the rain, but relaxed when Yuri shook off his hood and grinned.  

“Evening.  Wet enough for you?”

“Evening, Lowell.  Do you need something?”

“Can’t a guy say hello?  Here, you look freezing.”  He handed over the bundle of warm, greasy chicken.

Leblanc eyed the package suspiciously, but after a shiver swept over him, he took the food.  “I’m not supposed to take gifts while on duty, but I think I can count on you not to tell.”

“My lips are sealed.  You stuck on patrol duty tonight?”

“Yes.”  He took a bite from the chicken.  “I don’t see much of a point, though.  Not even criminals will want to be on the street tonight.  What are you doing out?”  His gaze turned to Yuri as if he expected him to start breaking the law right then and there.

“I wanted to talk to you.  It’s about Flynn.”

Leblanc’s expression soured.  “Yeah, I figured you of all people would notice.”

“That he’s acting like an asshole?”

Leblanc shifted and his face tightened.  “I would never say Commandant Flynn was acting like… well, that.  He certainly has been… testy in the past week or so.  Lieutenant Sodia won’t tolerate any criticism of him, but all of us who work closely with him have noticed the shift in attitude.”

“Did something happen to set it off?”

Leblanc shrugged.  “Not that I know of. I can’t pinpoint an exact moment he changed, but in the past week it’s become clear his patience and compassion has diminished - or at least he’s not displaying as much.  I became certain this was a serious issue and not a simple case of sleep-deprivation when I found out about his plans for the prisoners.”

“You mean the prison that closed?”  Shutting down a prison for not treating convicts humanely seemed like the  _ most _ Flynn-ish thing he’d done lately.

“Yes.  It’s not that he shut down the prison, which I support.  It’s that he decided that in order to deal with the new overcrowding issue in the prisons those inmates were transferred to, he’d have all the worst offenders executed.”

The cold night suddenly felt a lot colder.  “He decided  _ what _ ?”

“That was my reaction.  He decided that anyone serving a life sentence would have that changed to execution to open up space.”

Yuri stared at the raindrops pounding the stone street as he took this in.  It took a few seconds to comprehend what he was hearing. “Flynn decided this?”

“That’s right.”  His moustache bristled with unsaid anger.  

“Have those executions been carried out yet?”

“No. He’s still formalizing the paperwork.”

The soaking night was cold, but Yuri’s anger was flaring to life and keeping him warm.  Getting up on the wrong side of the bed could explain Flynn’s grouchiness today, but this was on a different level.  “Thanks for the intel.  Stay dry.”

“Hope you can get through to him!” Leblanc called after him as Yuri stormed back to the Comet, not even bothering to pull his hood up.  Inside, he slammed a few coins on the table in front of a surprised Karol.  “Here’s my half.  You finish it.  I need to talk to Flynn.”

  
  



	3. Unusual Suspects

Yuri hammered on Flynn’s front door.  He’d marched all the way through the city to shout at Flynn and he wasn’t going to be ignored. It took almost two minutes of knocking before Flynn answered his door.

“Yuri?  Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.  Do you-”

Yuri shoved him aside and strode into the house.  “We need to talk.”

Flynn frowned as he closed the door.  “Ok, what about?”

“ _ Execution _ , Flynn?  Are you kidding me?  You don’t have room for people so you’re just going to kill them?”

“Oh, that.  I was wondering if you’d find out about it.”

Yuri jabbed his finger at Flynn’s chest.  “Tell me what this is about.  This isn’t you, Flynn.”

Flynn sighed.  “I knew you’d take this badly.”

“Of course I’m taking it badly!”

“All right, we’ll talk about this.  Take off your coat and sit down; you’re dripping all over my floor.”

Yuri kicked off his shoes and slammed his dripping jacket on the peg by the door.  He started to the couch in the front room, but Flynn grabbed his arm.  

“No, you’re soaking wet.  Sit down in the kitchen where you won’t make a mess.”

In the kitchen, Yuri threw himself into a chair at the small wooden table.  On the counter was a plate with a sandwich with a sliver of thin bologna drooping out the side.  Yuri nodded at it.  “That your dinner?  Looks pathetic.”

“Hm?”  Flynn froze in the entry to the kitchen and then his eyes landed on the plate.  “Oh!  I already had a proper dinner. That was just a snack.”   Flynn hastily shoved the plate into the icebox.

“You don’t have to wait if you’re still hungry.  It’s too late to keep me from judging your sad attempt at a sandwich.”

“It’s fine.  I’ll eat later.  Want some hot chocolate?”

“I want you to explain yourself.”

“I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Yuri glared at Flynn’s back as he busied himself with putting the kettle on the stove.  No doubt he was avoiding having this conversation.  As Yuri waited, he looked to the table and spotted a golden coin sitting on the edge.  Yuri idly pushed it around the table and then picked it up to spin it.  

“Hey, where’d you get this?” Yuri held the coin up to examine it.  “I thought they stopped making one gald coins since they’re so worthless.”

Flynn looked over his shoulder and then crossed the room in two strides to snatch it from Yuri’s hand.  “They did.  It’s old.”

“What’s it doing here?”

“It was in my pocket when I emptied them after getting home.  It’s not some grand money laundering conspiracy.”

“Ok, but why did you have a nearly-worthless, out-of-print coin in your pocket?”

“It’s a… good luck charm.”  He slipped it into his pocket.  “Do you want marshmallows in your cocoa?”

“Just sit down and explain yourself.”

“Of course you do.”

It was over five minutes before Flynn sat down at the table with two mugs of hot chocolate and passed the one filled with marshmallows to Yuri.  Flynn took a sip and smiled.  “Now then, what’s on your mind?”

The table rattled from Yuri’s fist.  “Prison.  Executions.  What the hell?”

“Right.  That.”  Flynn frowned at the warm mug between his hands.  “You know I’m not doing this for fun, Yuri.  I don’t like killing people any more than you do.  But, I’m the commandant now and I have to make difficult decisions some-”

“Don’t give me that crap.  These people are in prison because they already stood trial and were sentenced to imprisonment.  If you’re going to have them killed, they need another fair trial to decide that.”

“There just isn’t time to hold a hundred trials.”

“That’s no excuse!  Why did you shut the prison down before you had a plan to deal with this?”

“My original plan was to review the sentences for the lightest offenders and release people with non-violent crimes and good behaviour.”

“And what was wrong with that?”  The mug by his clenched fist warmed his knuckles, but Yuri wasn’t willing to drink it.  He was too mad at Flynn to accept any kind of hospitality from him.  

“I had second thoughts.  I mean, those people already had their chance and were convicted fairly, right? What kind of precedence does it set if I let people go free without serving their time?”  He shook his head with a furrowed brow.  “People might start thinking they can get away with anything.”

“Clearly the best solution is to murder people.”

“It’s not  _ murder _ ,” Flynn insisted, the same way Yuri liked to explain that certain activities were not  _ technically _ illegal.  “And anyway, it’s not like I’m going to have petty thieves or tax-evading grannies put to death.  I’m talking about murderers and rapists from prisons across Zaphias who would never be released from prison anyway.  You could almost say I’m doing them a favour by freeing them of a lifetime spent locked up.”

Yuri was speechless for a few seconds after that.  What was he supposed to say to the idea that having people killed would be doing them a favour?  Yuri was not against the death penalty as a rule, but the flippancy with which Flynn was treating it horrified him.  This wasn’t executing people because a jury had deemed them worthy of death for their crimes, it was killing them just to free up space, and without giving them another trial to confirm it.  This was nothing but the other side of the coin of the same corruption he and Flynn had sworn to fix.  

“You can’t do this.”  Yuri couldn’t stop shaking his head.  “I won’t let you.”

Flynn cocked an eyebrow.  “What are you going to do to stop me?”

“The Council won’t let you.  The commandant doesn’t have the ability to condemn people to death.”

“Actually, I do.”  He took a casual sip from his mug.  “That was something I worried about at first, but I managed to push some new legislation through.  Officially, it makes the commandant the final arbiter of all people in his or her custody.  As the prison system is a branch of the Imperial Knighthood, in practice that means I can legally do whatever I think is best with convicted criminals.”

“What kind of bullshit law is that?!  How could you think that was a good idea?  That sounds like something Alexei would push for.”

Flynn shrugged.  “Maybe he had some good ideas.  No one is all bad, you know?”

“He tried to take over the world.”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

“How did you even get that passed?”

Flynn took another sip, leaving a moustache of chocolate on his upper lip.  “It was easier with Ioder out of town and I had to strongarm some of the holdouts, but it wasn’t too difficult.  This is a good thing, Yuri.”  His smile said he really wanted to convince Yuri that this was true.  “It means that if someone is arrested, and I  _ know _ that they’re guilty, I don’t have to worry about them getting out of punishment due to connections.”

“This law won’t expire when you retire, though.  Even if you can be trusted to use it responsibly-” and frankly, Yuri wasn’t sure he could be, “-you can’t trust that future commandants won’t use it to fuel corruption.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t think you do!”

Before Flynn could reply, someone else pounded on his door.  “Just a moment.”  He stood and wiped his lip with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.  “Wait here.”

Yuri glared into the table as Flynn left and then jerked his mug of hot chocolate toward himself so fast it slopped over the sides and burned his fingers.  He could not  _ believe _ Flynn was acting like this.  Could he really have changed so much in just six months on the job?  Power corrupts.  Yuri knew that phrase well and had lobbed it at many politicians over the years, but he’d trusted that Flynn at least could be an exception to that rule.  

The front door opened and Yuri heard voices raised over the pounding rain.  

“Lady Avondale?  What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to intrude on you at home, Commandant, but I thought it was the only way I’d get a chance to speak with you.”

“I’m off duty.  If you want a meeting, arrange one through my assistant.”  

Yuri heard the door start to close and then a thump as Lenore caught it.  She really was stubborn, wasn’t she?  

“You know perfectly well I’ll never get a meeting time with you.  You’re determined not to hear me out.”

“So you’re not completely oblivious.  You’re right, I have no interest in your side of the story.  The prison is closed and that’s that.”

“But as I’ve tried to explain, my husband and I need that prison.  Now that he’s out of work, I’m worried about our marriage.”

“I really don’t care about your marriage.  I don’t care about your jobs, or your financial situation.  There is not a single sob-story you can give me that will change my mind.”

Lenore breathed heavily and for a few seconds the rain was the only sound.  Flynn had just started telling her to leave again when she blurted, “I know a sob-story that will convince you.”

“Oh?” Flynn sounded almost amused now.  “Do tell.”

“I won’t tell it to you.  I’ll tell it to the Council.  I’ll tell them how I came to your house to talk to you about my problem and you invited me in to discuss it.”

“As if.”

“And then, how once we were alone inside, you grabbed me.”  Her voice raised in pitch.  “Oh, what did we ever expect when an uncivilized brute from the lower quarter was forced to try to socialize in fine society?  I had no chance of fighting him off.  He’s so much stronger than me.  I was so frightened, but there was nothing to I could do to prevent the assault.”

Flynn’s response was low and edge with icy calm.  “Are you attempting to blackmail me with something I haven’t even done?”

“It doesn’t matter if you have or haven’t.  I’ll tell them you raped me.  You’ll tell them you didn’t.  Who are they going to believe?”

“A thorough investigation will prove that nothing of the sort happened between us.”

“How conclusive?  And how long will it take?  Even if you can prove it, it’ll take so long that the damage to your reputation will already be done, and you know no amount of evidence will satisfy everyone.  So, you can either re-open the prison and give my husband a chance to fix it, or fight off rumours and suspicion for the rest of your life.”

“I do not capitulate to threats.  Anyone with half a brain will see you’re lying.”

“So the Council will believe me in a heartbeat, then.”

Yuri snorted into his drink.  He was disgusted with Lenore for trying to manipulate Flynn with such a vile accusation, but he couldn’t help liking her spirit.  

“Leave,” Flynn said forcefully.  

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to decide before I go to the Council.”

“I said, leave.”  The door slammed shut and a few seconds later, Flynn re-emerged in the kitchen.  “I suppose you heard all that?”

“Yep.  What a bitch.  You know the obvious solution?”

“Hm?”

“Re-open the damn prison.  Get her off your back and solve the overcrowding problem without killing people.”

“No.”  Flynn sat down again.

“Why the hell not?  It’s not like she’s asking for permission to torture people.  She said they were willing to change and get up to your standards.  Give them a chance.”

“I won’t cave to her threats.  It would make me look weak.”

“So?!  What’s your plan, then?  I’d be happy to testify for you that I heard her threaten to make it up, but I don’t know if my word will mean much to the Council.”

“No, it probably won’t.”

“What are you going to do, then?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Yuri abruptly rose to his feet.  “You already know my opinion.  If you’re not going to pay attention to it, I’m out of here.”

“Wait.”  Flynn caught his wrist.  “You don’t have to go.  You could stay here again.  I mean, it’s coming down pretty hard out there.  You’ll get even more soaked.”

Yuri yanked his wrist away and wrinkled his nose at Flynn.  “I’m disgusted with you tonight, Flynn.  I’m not staying here any longer than I need to.  I’ll see you later.  And fix your damn furnace.”  Its renewed clanking only added to his irritation as he stormed out of the house.  

* * *

 

Yuri tried to keep his mind off Flynn the next day.  He was planning to see him again that night when Flynn finished work, but he didn’t know what else to say to him.  He had to stop Flynn from going through with his plan for the prisoners, because surely when Flynn got out of whatever funk he was in now, he’d regret it.  

To occupy himself, he helped Hanks clean out his attic.  He’d been hoping chatting with Hanks would lead to some advice, but unfortunately, Hanks was just as baffled as he was.

“He’s doing what?” Hanks paused with an old vase in hand when Yuri explained Flynn’s plan.

“Yeah, that was my reaction.”  Yuri brushed some dust off his knee as he sat on an old crate.  “You’ve been in Zaphias all this time.  Do you have any idea what’s up with him?”

Hanks rubbed his chin.  “Hard to say.  Flynn hasn’t been down here in awhile.  You know him better than me.”

Yuri shook his head slowly.  “I thought I did.  I just don’t understand how he’s acting lately.  I didn’t think becoming the commandant would change him this much.”  The thought depressed him because if even Flynn could turn out like this upon taking power, there was no hope of ever having a decent, honourable person running the empire.  

“It’s still been less than a year.  Maybe he’s just under a lot of stress as he adjusts to his new responsibilities.”

“Yeah… maybe.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Yuri.  I’ve watched you boys fight ever since you were knee-high, and I know you always work it out in the end.  Try sparring with him; maybe it’ll get his head in order and you can talk things out sensibly.”

“I might do that.”  Yuri was keen on the idea of sparring with Flynn, though mostly because he wanted to beat him up.  Tonight, he’d drag Flynn down to the training pitch at the castle and they’d have a good match, give Yuri a chance to whack him on the head for being a dunce, and hopefully bring Flynn back to his senses.

“Anyway, I thought you were here to help?  Get off your ass; that box isn’t going to lift itself.”

“Speaking of going mad with power, master slave driver.”  Yuri smirked as he hopped to his feet and picked up the crate. 

Yuri was in a slightly better mood now that he had the plan to beat Flynn into a pulp (and also maybe work things out).  He looked forward to meeting Flynn that evening and even the on-and-off drizzling from the sky couldn’t dampen his spirits.  

Yuri arrived at Flynn’s office just as he knew Flynn would be finishing work for the day.  Outside, it was just starting to get dark.  Flynn was standing but still bent over his desk, trying to finish some last-minute paperwork.  He hadn’t lit his lamps yet, so dark shadows formed by dying sunlight crossed his face.

“Yo,” Yuri called, startling Flynn.

“Yuri!”  He slammed the pen down and turned.  “For heaven’s sake, knocking won’t kill you.”

“Yeah, but why risk it?  What are you still working for, anyway?  Get your crap together and grab your sword; I want to work up an appetite before dinner.”

Flynn slapped his forehead.  “Ah, damn, I knew I forgot something.  I’m sorry, Yuri, I meant to send a messenger to you to tell you I need to cancel for tonight.”

Ordinarily, Yuri would be fine with this.  After all, Flynn’s job was more important than spending time with an old friend.  Considering what he’d hoped to work out tonight, though, he was more irritated.  “Oh, yeah?  What came up?”  It had better be important.

“I need to deal with Lenore Avondale.  I’ve been distracted all day, actually, working that problem out.”

“Right, her twenty-four hour window is almost up.  Why don’t you go to the Council first and head her off?  Tell them she threatened you with a false accusation.  That way you’ll already have your defense set up when she brings her accusation forward.”

Flynn nodded slowly.  “I thought of that.  The trouble is, even that isn’t foolproof, which is the kind of defense I would need considering so many powerful people in this city are desperate for an excuse to discredit me.  They’ll say I assaulted her and then told people she would lie in an attempt to silence her or dissuade her from speaking up.”

“Damn, that’s true.”  Yuri hadn’t been able to think of anything else all day.  Lenore had to be given credit for ingenuity.  Naturally, Flynn’s real slate was far too shiny and clean to blackmail him the old fashioned way, but she’d found the one accusation to throw at him that was equal-parts damaging and next-to-impossible to prove either way.  It was her word against his… and the Council would not be predisposed to take his.  

“Don’t worry, Yuri.  This doesn’t involve you.  Don’t stress about it.”

“If she destroys your career and drags you down, that ruins both our plans for a better tomorrow.  Of course this involves me.”

“I appreciate your support.”  The fading light framed him from behind, almost casting him in silhouette, and making it difficult to discern the familiar earnestness of his slight smile.    “But I already decided how I’m going to solve this.”

“Oh, yeah?  How?”

“I’m going to handle this like a mature, rational adult.  I’ll talk to her.  I’ll convince her to drop this issue and we can all move on from this mess.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “You really think just talking to her will work?  It hasn’t worked in the past.”

“Don’t worry.”  He clapped Yuri on the shoulder  Maybe his smile was supposed to be reassuring, but it wasn’t.  “I’ll get this sorted.  Sorry to cancel dinner on you.  Let’s meet tomorrow night, shall we?”

“Yeah… sure,” Yuri said without much enthusiasm.  He watched Flynn leaving, fighting with the inclination to stop him.  Flynn had been acting so strangely lately, and the fact that he wasn’t being clear about exactly what he planned to do worried Yuri.  He had no idea what exactly he was worried Flynn might do, but if he was willing to fudge ethics to deal with the prison overcrowding issue, what was he going to do to get Lenore off his back?  Should he follow Flynn tonight just to keep tabs on him?

In the end, Yuri decided not to.  Maybe this was because he did trust Flynn, even if he was frustrated and worried about him at the same time.  Maybe it was because following him would force Yuri to confront the truth that right now he did not, in fact, trust Flynn. 

* * *

 

The next day, it had been resolved.  At least, that was what Yuri told himself.  Lenore had promised to go to the Council last night unless Flynn caved, so Yuri was sure he’d have heard news today.  Either everyone would be talking about how that prison was reopening, or else no one would shut up about rumours of Flynn assaulting a woman.  When all was quiet as he, Judy, and Karol breakfasted in the Comet, he assumed Flynn had accomplished the impossible and worked things out.  

It was a nice breakfast.  There were eggs, sausage, toast, and orange juice.  Yuri enjoyed spending time with his friends and it eased the worries about Flynn that had been burdening him since they arrived.  Yuri had been enjoying himself so much he didn’t even stop to consider that with luck like his, that was sure to end soon.

Ted was the one to bring the meal to an abrupt halt.  He burst into the Comet, white-faced and panting.  “Yuri!  You gotta come with me!”

Yuri dropped his fork with a clatter.  Sometimes Ted hunted him down to demand he join a neighbourhood kickball game, but the expression on his face said this was much more serious than that.  Karol and Judy followed Yuri out the door.

“What’s happening?” Yuri asked as Ted walked quickly down the street.  

“I - some friends and I were playing by the river when we found - they said I should get you.” 

They didn’t have to walk far.  Ted led them along the river, through a tunnel under a second-storey building, and across a bridge to a quiet section of river Yuri and Flynn used to play by when they were kids.  The green water slowed down here, giving weeds and garbage a chance to accumulate in niches formed by pillars against the raised walkway.  Three boys were clustered on the edge of the river, eyes glued to a pile of cloth caught against one of these half-pillars.  A few steps closer and Yuri realized it was not a pile of trashed clothing.  

Yuri quickened his pace to the children, one of whom was reaching toward it with a stick.  “Michael!” The boy’s head snapped up, face stricken.  Yuri wasn’t surprised; that kid was the sort to poke anything, even if he got his hand bit in the process.  “Get away from the water.” When Michael dropped the stick, it bounced off the corpse’s back before slipping into the water.  

“Is it a joke, you think?” Ted asked hopefully.  “Or maybe a mannequin?”

“I don’t think that’s a mannequin,” Judith said while Yuri got on his knees.  

Karol hung back, staring at the body in the river as pale as Ted.  Yuri said, “Hey, boss, can you do me a favour?  It’s important someone reports this to the knights.  Take Ted and these other kids and go get the first knight you can find.  Tell them there’s a dead body in the river and we need them to take care of it.”

Karol nodded, clearly pleased that his important job would take him away from the corpse.  “Right!  Come on, Ted, let’s go find a knight!”

Once the children were gone, Yuri turned back to the body.  A long, lavender gown flowed in the murky water around her legs.  Yuri was tall enough that he didn’t need a stick to reach down and gently turn the woman’s face so he could see who the person had been beyond the cloud of auburn hair.  He was not at all surprised to see the face of Lenore Avondale.  

“Who is she?” Judith asked.  “You know her, don’t you?”

Yuri pulled his hand away and Lenore’s face slipped back into the water.  In the brief look he’d taken, he’d noticed the dark, reddish-purple marks dug into her neck.  It would be nice to say she’d tripped and fallen into the river, subsequently drowning.  Well, not  _ nice _ , but it was certainly a nicer story than death by strangulation and being dumped in the river after the fact.  

“Yeah.  I knew her.”

“A friend?”

“Hardly.”  Yuri sat back on his feet.  “This is the woman who tried to blackmail Flynn.”

“I suppose Flynn doesn’t have to worry about her going to the Council anymore.”

“No… how convenient for him.”  Yuri stared at Lenore as she bobbed in the river. An awful, unthinkable idea was creeping into his mind even though he tried to reject it.  

Judith watched his face for a long, strained minute.  “Has it occurred to you that…?”

“That she was obviously murdered and it’s a huge coincidence that someone else murdered her precisely when Flynn needed her out of the way?”

Judith frowned.  “I wouldn’t believe it of Flynn.”

“I wouldn’t either.  I know he’s been acting weird lately, but this can’t be explained by stress or being grumpy.”

“Who do you think was responsible, then?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

The children didn’t return with Karol and the knights.  Yuri was glad, because there were some things little kids ought not see.  With grim faces, the knights pulled Lenore’s corpse out of the river.  Dead leaves clung to her limp hair and the reek of decomposing meat mingled with the stench of the dirty river.  Karol wrinkled his nose and stepped back while Yuri watched the knights lay her on an old sheet of canvas and cover her up. 

“We’ll take care of her from here,” one of them said.  “Thank you for the alert.”

“Any idea who killed her?” Yuri asked, not expecting much.

The other knight shrugged.  “Hard to say.  Based on the marks on the throat, it seems pretty clear she was strangled with a ligature of some kind, but I couldn’t guess who did it.  That’s not my department.”

Once the knights had carried her away, Karol and Judith looked to Yuri, expecting him to react.  When he did nothing but stand silently, eyes on the river, Karol said, “What should we do, Yuri?”

“Why should we do anything?  It’s not our responsibility to solve murders in the empire.”  Even as he said it, he was planning his next move.  Obviously Flynn hadn’t killed Lenore.  Obviously.  That was why he was going to go have a chat with Flynn about where he’d been last night, just as a friendly conversation.  

* * *

 

Flynn was dabbing something on his face when Yuri entered.  His head snapped up in surprise, which quickly turned to irritation.  “Why can’t you just knock?”

“What’s up?” Yuri strode into the office.  Flynn held a compact mirror and slipped something else into his pocket as he approached.  He sat behind his desk, papers spread out.

“Nothing is up.  I was trying to get work done before you barged in.”

Yuri stood in front of the desk and leaned over it, taking a good look at Flynn’s face and the mirror he had just shoved into a desk drawer.  With the tiniest smirk, Yuri asked, “Flynn, are you… wearing make-up?”  

“It’s nothing.  Just a little concealer.”  He’d been applying it under his eye when Yuri walked in, or else fixing what he’d probably put on that morning. 

With his face only a foot from Flynn’s, Yuri was able to make out the dark shadow beneath the flesh-toned powder and how puffy Flynn’s lower-lid was.  “Alright, who do I have to fight?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Yuri straightened up.  “Someone punched you.  Was it Geoff from Gleam Street again?”  Yuri rested his hand on his waist and shook his head.  “Geeze, how many times did I get knocked around trying to defend you from that jerk.  What an ass - and he couldn’t even spell ‘Jeff’ properly.”

Flynn held his mouth open for a moment, probably trying to figure out which part of that statement to argue about first.  While Flynn worked on this, Yuri inspected his face.  Besides the bruise under his eye, there was a pink scrape just under his jaw; it looked like he’d been scratched.  

“It was nothing,” Flynn said finally.  “A minor scuffle.  I was accosted on the street last night - an attempted mugging, I assume.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow.  “Someone tried to mug the commandant?  Death wish, much?”

Flynn shrugged.  “Perhaps they didn’t recognize me.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know.”  Flynn wouldn’t meet his eyes.  “He got away.”

“You let him get away?”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.  I attempted to give chase, but he outran me.”

Yuri folded his arms.  “So some random guy tried to mug you, punched you in the face and then clawed at you, and then turned around and ran off faster than you could keep up?”  It was… possible, Yuri supposed.  It just didn’t seem very plausible.  Flynn wasn’t the sort of knight who’d let someone like that get away.  He’d have reported the attack, at the very least in an effort to clean up the streets and keep the criminal from attacking anyone else, and then the Knights would have gone into overdrive to catch the man responsible for assaulting the commandant.  It would have been a big deal.  Besides, Flynn wasn’t a vain man.  He’d never been worried about battle scars or injuries before, so it seemed weird he’d be sitting at his desk, ignoring his work to touch-up his face.  He’d only do that if he was trying to keep people from noticing there was an injury.   “Were you attacked on your way home?”

“Yes.”

“Where from?”

“A restaurant.”

“Is that where you were meeting Lenore?”

“Hm?”

“Because you said you were going to talk to her last night.  Were you meeting her at the restaurant?”  Dammit, Flynn, at least try to be more believable.  Yuri wanted to be satisfied with this explanation, but he knew he’d never rest easily for the rest of his life if he didn’t push this.

“Oh, yes.”

“Where did Lenore go after the restaurant?”

Flynn shrugged.  “How should I know?  We discussed the issue and then I left without her.”

“Give me the name of the restaurant.  I want to talk to your waiter, or someone else who saw you guys there.”

Flynn looked cross.  “Why?”

There had to be an innocent reason Flynn was so defensive about this.  “Just give me the name.”

“It’s none of your business.  Why are you being so confrontational about this?”

Yuri slammed his fist on the desk.  “Because somebody murdered Lenore last night.”  

He watched Flynn’s face closely.  What was the immediate reaction - surprise?  Worry?  Flynn’s eyebrows rose and he said, “Really?  What happened?”  Almost as an afterthought, he added, “How horrible.”

“So I just want to know,” Yuri struggled to keep his voice calm, “how your little chat with her ended last night.”

Flynn narrowed his eyes.  “Are you suggesting I had anything to do with her murder?”

“I’m suggesting it’s certainly convenient for you that she’s dead and those injuries on your face need an explanation.”

Flynn rose to his feet so he could be even with Yuri.  “I told you.  I was attacked by a mugger on the way home.”

“We both know that’s bullshit. Who really hit you?”

Flynn’s eyes met Yuri’s, calm and cold.  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Was it Lenore?  What happened between you two last night?”

“I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Then tell me who hit you.”  Flynn didn’t reply. “Flynn!  Don’t lie to me. If you killed Lenore, tell me the truth and we’ll… I don’t know.”  This wasn’t like Cumore and Ragou.  Lenore wasn’t actively hurting people.  She wasn’t innocent, but she hadn’t deserved to be killed.  What would he do if Flynn had really killed her?  Yuri didn’t want to believe this of Flynn.  He wanted his friend to go back to normal and put all this behind them.  But he couldn’t deny reality and the way every piece of evidence suggested Flynn had been responsible for Lenore’s death.  Could the pressure of being the commandant really have changed him this much?  

Flynn stared at Yuri for a long second before walking around his desk so he was right in front of Yuri.  “How could you accuse me of that?”

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a deep breath.  “Give me a reason to believe you.  I want to be on your side, Flynn.”

Flynn hesitated, then grabbed Yuri’s shoulder, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Yuri’s.  Yuri stiffened in shock.  For the first moment, his brain was a buzz of confused static.  For the second, he couldn’t stop thinking about how nice Flynn’s lips were and how an itch he’d never noticed needing scratched had suddenly been soothed.  For the third, Lenore’s pallid face swam into vision, complete with dark bruising around her throat and the thought of who had left those marks there.  

He shoved Flynn away.  “What the hell?!”

“I love you, Yuri.  You have to trust me.  I would never do anything to hurt you.  We’re together in everything, right?”

Yuri jerked his wrist across his lips.  “I didn’t accuse you of hurting me; I said you hurt Lenore.  Who hit you last night?”

“That doesn’t matter because-”

“If you don’t tell me who hit you, I’ll be forced to believe it was Lenore trying to fight you off.”

“But Yuri, I love-”

“Shut it!”  It had been ages since he’d seen Flynn’s face so crestfallen, and never before had he cared about that expression so little.  “What the hell did you think would happen?  I’d suddenly forgive you for murdering a girl if you were good enough in bed?  How could you even think that was a good time to bring this up?!”

“What about you, though?”

“What about me?!”

“Do you love me?”

Yuri’s vision kept blurring with every throb of fury from his heart.  “Right now? No!  I don’t!  You killed someone, Flynn!  I just…”  He dug his fingers into his fair.  “I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Flynn spat.  “I know about Cumore and Ragou.  You’ve killed people, too.”

“Don’t you dare act like these situations are comparable.”  Yuri seethed through his teeth and shook his head.  “I’m done, Flynn.”  Done with what?  The conversation? Their friendship?  He didn’t know.  He’d figure that out later.  Yuri twisted and started to storm to the door, but Flynn caught his arm.

“Yuri, wait, don’t go. Please, I need you by my side.  I’m sorry this was a bad time, but it’s true.  I do love you - I always have.  Stay with me and we can work this out.”

Yuri glared back.  “Who hit you?”

Flynn’s eyes shifted away.

Yuri sneered.  “That’s what I thought.”  He jerked his arm away and snarled, “Goodbye.”  Yuri strode out of the room, wondering if a lifelong friendship had just been irreversibly smashed.  

 


	4. Blood on the Street

It took some wandering around the castle and asking directions before Yuri found Sodia’s office.  It was just a small room with a row of filing cabinets and a huge flag with the crest of the Imperial Knights on the back wall.  

“Knock-knock,” Yuri said as he walked in.

She jolted and did not react as favourably as Flynn did when Yuri barged in.  She dropped the stack of papers she’d been organizing and gave him a venomous look.  “What gives you the right to march in here unannounced?”

“I said ‘knock-knock’.”  Which was even more of a courtesy than he gave lots of other people, so she ought to be thanking him.  Before she could kick him out, Yuri jumped right to his point.  “I need your help.  It’s about Flynn.”  He had no idea who else he was supposed to go to about this with both Estelle and Ioder out of town.  

The news that this was about helping Flynn mollified Sodia, but only slightly.  “What about him?”

Yuri shut the door.  He didn’t usually care too much about privacy, but he didn’t want anyone else overhearing his fears about Flynn.  “Did you hear about Lenore Avondale?”

She nodded curtly.  “Yes, I was informed earlier.  It’s a tragedy.”

“I think Flynn killed her.”

Sodia’s gaze turned sharper than usual.  “How could you possibly arrive at such a ludicrous assumption?”

As plainly as he could, Yuri explained his evidence.  He knew it wasn’t a rock-solid case, but he knew Flynn.  He knew Flynn had been hiding something during that conversation.  The fact that he would not explain his injuries, even when confronted with the accusation of murder, meant either he was responsible for Lenore’s death or there was something even worse he was hiding, and both of those conclusions warranted investigation.

When he finished explaining, Sodia was not convinced.  “That’s it?  I admit I find it odd that the commandant put so little effort into apprehending the person who accosted him last night, but that’s still a more believable story than to think Commandant Flynn might kill someone.”

Yuri shook his head.  “It’s not just that.  It’s how he’s been acting ever since I got here.  His whole plan to execute criminals to free up space - that doesn’t seem like him, does it?”

Sodia’s confidence wavered, but only for a second.  “It is unusual, but Flynn has been put in a demanding position.  I trust him, and I trust he has the best interests of the Empire at heart.  I can’t judge him for the decisions he’s forced to make.”

“Everything about the way he’s been acting is weird.  He doesn’t even feel like the Flynn I used to know.”

“Well,” Sodia sniffed and started shuffling papers together, “perhaps you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

“All I want is for you to investigate this and be on alert.”

“Of course the case will be investigated.  Don’t tell me how to do my job.  Commandant Flynn is the leader we’ve all hoped for for countless years.  Anyone put in a position of great power will be forced to occasionally make questionable decisions.  I will not lose my faith in him just because he isn’t spotless and perfect 24/7 now that he’s the commandant.  She slammed her straightened pile back on the desk.  “It will take more than that for me to give up on him.  I would have thought you of all people would feel the same.”

“I don’t know what I expected trying to get help from you.”  Yuri rolled his eyes and left the room, slamming the door behind him.  On his way out of the castle, he drafted a letter to Estelle in his head. She was the only other person he could go to for something like that.  Surely Estelle would believe him when he said Flynn was behaving totally unlike himself and might have done something horrible.  She knew more about the politics of the Empire and what to do about a rogue commandant, too - or at least, she’d know what book to find it in.  

Yuri left the castle, still fuming, and spotted Leblanc talking to Adecor and Boccos on the street.  An idea popped into his head and he hurried over.  “Hey, Leblanc.”

Boccos swung around and nearly gutted Yuri with his spear.  “Yuri Lowell! You can’t just interrupt an important meeting between knights!”

Leblanc ignored Boccos.  “Has something happened?”

“I need to talk to you.  It’s about Flynn.  Hey, tweedles, scram for a minute, will ya?”

Adecor puffed out his chest with indignation.  “I say, how dare you presume to give orders!”

Leblanc nodded and then turned to the pair of knights.  “Take a patrol around the block.”

They both gaped at him, but didn’t comment before saluting and marching away.  Boccos did spare an angry glance over his shoulder, though.

“What is this about?” Leblanc asked once the tweedles were gone. 

Yuri explained again, praying he wasn’t met with the same indifference Sodia had given him.  He’d been right to assume Leblanc would take him more seriously, though.  His face grew graver and graver as Yuri lined up his pieces of evidence, and he nodded when Yuri finished. 

“It’s hard to be sure,” Yuri said at the end.  “It seems impossible that Flynn could commit murder like this.  But after everything else….”

Leblanc folded his arms and nodded gravely.  “It certainly seems suspicious.  I haven’t been assigned the Avondale case, but I’ll keep an eye on it and make sure they aren’t hushing things up on the commandant’s orders.  That’s about all I can do.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s better than nothing.  Believe me, I want the Avondale investigation to lead to a totally unrelated person, too.”  Then he’d have to go back to wondering who had punched Flynn last night, but at least he wouldn’t have to believe his best friend had murdered someone.  

“I have to ask, though - why are you bringing this to me?  We worked together back in the day, but I don’t think I have to say we haven’t exactly been friends since you left the Knights.”

“You’re the one who kept arresting me.  That tends to damper any relationship.”

Leblanc fixed him with a level glare.  “You’re the one who kept breaking the law.”

“Touché.  Honestly, with Flynn acting the way he is, I think you’re the only person in this whole rotten organization I can trust.  Even Sodia’s got her head too far up Flynn’s ass to realize something’s going on.”

“I see.”  Leblanc nodded slowly.  “Thank you for the vote of confidence.  It looks like my subordinates are returning.”

The tweedles were bickering with each other as they approached from around the block.  Yuri said, “Don’t tell them about this.  If Flynn’s gone to the dark side, I don’t want word spreading that you don’t trust him and I don’t know if I trust those bozos to keep quiet.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.  Have a good day, Yuri Lowell, and stay out of trouble.”

Yuri snorted.  “Yes, Dad.”  He felt a little better with the knowledge that at least one knight was on the case, but he knew he wouldn’t rest easily until he got to the bottom of this himself.  

* * *

 

Later, Yuri sat on his bed.  Karol was crossed-legged at the foot of it while Judith sat in a chair by the window.  He had just finished telling them what happened at Flynn’s office, although he left out the part where Flynn had kissed him.  

That was… he didn’t know.  It was wrong, obviously, because Flynn was his friend and they’d been friends since they were kids.  There were people he thought of as potential romantic partners, and people he thought of as good friends, and then there was Flynn in a special category all his own because there was no one else Yuri felt the same way about.  He’d always assumed Flynn’s little bubble was attached to the ‘friends’ group, but that kiss had shaken things up.  Flynn was just… Flynn.  Besides, Flynn had just grabbed him and laid it on him, and you couldn’t just go around kissing people without asking first.  He was too angry at Flynn to even want to playfully punch his shoulder right now, and Flynn suddenly forcing a kiss on him just made that anger burn brighter.  

The only thing that worried him was the small part of him, the part ruled by instinct and emotion rather than logic, that thought about the kiss and said,  _ nice _ .  When Yuri told that part to shut up because nothing about being kissed out of the blue by a supposed murderer was nice, it pestered him to imagine what it would have been like if Flynn had been acting like himself and Yuri had reciprocated the kiss.  Which was nonsense, of course.  

All of those thoughts kept invading his mind as he tried to focus on what really mattered: Flynn had seemingly murdered someone.  It sounded preposterous, but after all Flynn’s weirdness in the past few days, he couldn’t help believing it.  He had been sort of hoping Judy and Karol would tell him not to be absurd, but they took the news solemnly.

“What do you think we should do?” Karol asked.  “If you’re right and Flynn has gone… well… to the dark side, what can we do?  He has a lot of power and I wouldn’t want to think the commandant wasn’t an upstanding guy.”

“I don’t know.  Part of me still hopes he’s just going through a funk and will snap out of it soon.”

Judith frowned.  “People don’t kill people because they’re going through a funk.  If you’re right and he did, this isn’t something he’ll just snap out of.”

Karol stared at the sheets in concentration.  “There really isn’t anything we  _ can  _ do.  We’re from the Union.  If we interfere with the Empire’s commandant, it could cause a lot of problems for the relationship between the Union and the Empire.”

“I won’t just sit here and do nothing.”  Yuri’s fire was starting to heat up again.  “If we can’t do anything as a guild, then I’ll just-”

“No one is saying you have to do this alone,” Judith said.  “Of course we’ll help you with Flynn, we’ll just be doing it as Flynn’s friends and not a guild missions.”

Karol shook his head in exasperation.  “Geeze, Yuri, like we’d let you handle this by yourself.”

Yuri smiled a little.  “Thanks, guys.  The first thing I’m going to do is write to Estelle. Maybe she noticed a change before she left, or knows about something that happened to kick this behaviour off.  Maybe I’ll write to Ioder, too.”

“You can’t just write a letter to the emperor, Yuri,” Karol said.

Yuri crossed his arms.  “Why not?  He’s just a guy.  What, does his mighty aura of power repel envelopes?”

“It’s not that simple,” Judith said.  “Hundreds of people write to the emperor every day.  He doesn’t have time to read every single one.  Letters to the emperor are sorted by his underlings and only official messages get through to him.  A personal letter from someone from the Union is not going to reach him.”

“It’s the same for Flynn and Estelle,” Karol reminded him.  “They’ve just got us on a white-list to let the sorters know to forward any mail from Brave Vesperia.”

That did sound familiar.  Man, dealing with royalty was such a pain.  Oh well, Estelle was probably a better source than Ioder anyway.  If she didn’t know anything, they could go to Dahngrest in person and find Ioder.  “Just Estelle, then.”

Karol said, “Want me to write it?”

Yuri didn’t often write letters to Estelle himself.  He preferred to let Karol do the writing and call out things to add from across the room.  This was in part because he disliked writing in general, part because he never knew what to say when he wasn’t face-to-face with someone, and part because whenever he did write, Estelle always came back offering to tutor him in penmanship or spelling.  This time, though, he wanted to explain the problem with Flynn himself.  “It’s ok, boss, I got this.”

After Judy and Karol left, Yuri pulled out a piece of paper and sat down on his bed to write the letter.  He watched Repede napping on the floor for a few minutes before even starting.  There was a lot to say, but he didn’t want to worry Estelle too much.  The last thing he wanted was for her to drop everything and rush back to Zaphias in a panic.  He’d keep this short.

_ Hey Estelle, _

_ Yo.  How are you. Did Rita blow up her house yet.  I hope you’r weather is better then ours becuz it keeps raining here.  BV + I are staying in Zaphias for bout a week. Next time I see you I’ll tell you about the cool mission we had. I was wondering tho, did Flynn seem ok when you left? I’m just asking cuz he seems a little tense and moody.  He’s acting a little wierd so I wondered if something happened before you left.   _

_ Ok I gotta go. Bye _

_ -Yuri _

He skimmed over the letter a few times, checking for spelling mistakes so that Estelle wouldn’t hound him about tutoring again.  It looked fine, so he called it good and folded it up. “Hey, Repede.”  The dog opened his eye and looked up.  “Want to walk to the mailbox with me?”

Repede huffed and got to his feet and then Yuri led the way out the door.  

* * *

 

A couple of days had passed since the afternoon at Hanks’ house.  Yuri hadn’t heard back from Estelle, but they were still in the window of average letter turnaround from Halure.  The problem was that he was running out of odd-jobs to do around the lower quarter, and he felt guilty for making the rest of his guild sit tight while nothing happened.  How many jobs were they missing in Dahngrest while they sat around in Zaphias?  But he couldn’t just leave the city when Flynn might be a murderer and that investigation was still on-going, plus Estelle’s letter would be addressed to him here and he wasn’t willing to wait an extra week for Hanks to forward his mail to Dahngrest. 

Night had fallen a few hours ago.  It wasn’t quite raining, but the heavy mist was making a valiant effort at imitating it.  Zaphias had always relied on the shining barrier to provide light at night, so in the months since the Adephagos, it had been slow-going to install gas-based street lamps.  The lower quarter was of course the last priority, so with the fog blocking the moon, the only light on the streets was what filtered out of windows and opening tavern doors.  

This meant the streets were mostly deserted, which Yuri appreciated. Wandering through the dark, damp streets gave him time to think.  Repede was still curled up at home, because he’d taken one look at the dreary night when Yuri left and gave him a look that said, _are you crazy_?  Yuri liked nights like this, though.  When everyone else was safely locked up in their houses, the night was his alone and problems always seemed more surmountable when you felt like you had an entire city to yourself.  

“Who’s there?” a shadow called from the fog ahead.

“Definitely not an axe-murderer,” Yuri called back.

Light from a tavern window shone orange on a damp helmet.  “Oh, Yuri Lowell, it’s you,” Leblanc said.

“What are you doing out here?” Yuri drew close enough that Leblanc was fully visible through the mist now.  “Isn’t one of the perks of being a lieutenant that you don’t get assigned the crappy patrols?”

“Someone has to take the less pleasant night shifts, and I’d be a poor leader if I delegated them all to my subordinates.  What about you?  What business do you have being out on a night like this?”

Yuri held up his hands.  “I’m innocent.  See, no law-breaking happening here.”

“That’s a guilty conscience if I ever saw one.”

“This is why I left the Knights.”  Yuri rested his hand on his waist and shook his head.  “So suspicious.  Anyway, while you’re here, do you have any news about Flynn?”

Leblanc’s moustache bristled.  “Nothing of substance.  The investigation into Lady Avondale’s murder has concluded she was strangled with some sort of ligature.  Apparently a strip of cloth with a knot tied in it, based on the bruising.  They say it looks like there was a struggle, but since the body was dumped in the river there’s no chance of finding any real evidence on her.”

“I would have assumed there was a struggle.  People don’t generally stand still and let someone strangle them.”  He thought about this for a second and then added, “Though, actually, I’ve heard some people are into that.  Seems pretty weird, but, hey, I don’t judge.”

Leblanc did not find any amusement in this.  “Obviously she was not ‘into’ this.”

“Right, I didn’t mean she was, just that… oh, never mind.”  Jokes had never been the Schwann brigade’s strong suit.  “Has Flynn gotten involved?”

Leblanc’s frown deepened.  “The commandant has made it clear he doesn’t think her activities earlier in the day are worth pursuing.  He told the investigators to focus only on where she was immediately prior to her time of death.”

“Which was where?”

“They don’t know, because Commandant Flynn doesn’t want them to backtrack to her activities earlier in the evening to try to project where she went next.”

Yuri closed his eyes for a second.  He’d been really hoping the investigation would prove Flynn was innocent, but this was looking worse and worse.  “Fantastic.  And the knights are cool with this?”

“I’ve discussed it with the captain in charge, Chapman.  He blustered on about trusting the commandant’s judgement and went along with it.  Anyway, that’s all I know about this case.  In other matters, the commandant seems to be his normal self.  He is still going ahead with his plan to execute surplus criminals, though.  The paperwork is almost in order and the hangings are scheduled to begin next week.”

Yuri’s frustration mounted higher.  “Any way we can stop it?”

“Armed insurrection against the commandant, or else you talk to him and change his mind.”

Yuri grumbled, “Fantastic.” 

After saying goodbye, Yuri stalked away into the mist.  He’d been feeling pretty content while walking through the dark streets, but his chat with Leblanc had put him on edge again.  If Flynn was using his position as an excuse to kill anyone who was inconvenient… Yuri couldn’t let that stand.  A promise he’d made a long time ago came back to him - that if Flynn ever went the way of Ragou or Cumore, he’d have no choice but to treat him the same way.  Could he really do that though?  He’d been avoiding thinking about it this whole time, because while the thought of a world with an untrustworthy Flynn was frightening, the thought of a world with a murdered Flynn was unbearable.  Flynn wasn’t like those other corrupt bastards, was he?  He was making bad choices, but he was still Flynn.  He cold be reasoned with.  He didn’t need to be taken out.  Please, oh please, let Flynn be reasoned with.  

Yuri was so caught up in worrying about Flynn that he barely noticed where he was going.  He knew his way around the lower quarter so well that his feet could guide him without input from his brain.  Fifteen minutes after his talk with Leblanc, he’d wandered to a nest of streets that were lively with shoppers during the day but mostly deserted at this time of night.  He was just thinking that it was time to turn back and warm up when a sound caught his attention.  

It was the beginning of a scream that strangled out into a whimper.  The sound came from a narrow street just ahead, and was quickly replaced by another muffled whine.  Some people, when hearing the sound of obvious distress, used it as a signal to run the hell away before that distress turned to them, but Yuri was the sort who ran toward such cries.  The fact that he hadn’t bothered to carry his sword on a casual stroll through his neighbourhood barely registered in his mind.  Yuri dashed around the corner and for a second he had to let his eyes adjust to the even lower level of illumination compared to the main street. 

There was movement midway down the street.  Yuri could only make out a dark figure pressing someone else against the brick wall.  In a flash of fury, he guessed what he was witnessing.  “Hey!” Yuri ran forward, ignoring the fact that he didn’t have any weapons.  His fists would be enough to beat the crap out of scum like this.  As he ran forward, the assaulter noticed him, turned tail, and fled.  Yuri was about to chase after him, but the other person - it sounded like a young woman - slumped to the ground.  Yuri’s desire to make that bastard suffer was overwhelmed by his need to make sure the victim wasn’t hurt, so he listened to the footsteps running away and approached the moaning figure crumpled on the street.  

“Are you hurt?”  She didn’t answer.  Yuri took a step toward her and stepped on something soft and wet that nearly made him slip.  Now that he wasn’t distracted by rage, a thick, coppery scent reached his nose.  Yuri crouched in front of the huddled shape.  He could make out her face now - streaked with tears and with a clump of material shoved in her mouth.  Yuri tugged the gag out and she began gasping for air.  

“I’ll get you to a doctor.”  He couldn’t tell yet how she was injured but the reek of blood filled the alley.  Her arms were behind her back as she gasped and let out small moans.  Yuri was afraid to touch her until he knew where she was hurt, but he reached for her side to try to stabilize her and keep her from falling sideways.  

When his hand reached her abdomen, it landed on something warm and wet like a thick worm.  This shocked him so much he jerked his hand back and lost his balance, falling off the balls of his feet and onto his knees.  His knee came down on something like a piece of meat that squelched beneath him and slipped away, and his hand landed in a warm liquid. The woman’s movement was slowing down, there were long pauses between her terrified gasps for breath, and Yuri was starting to realize that what he’d walked in on had not been a sexual assault.  

It was so much worse.  He shoved his hands forward in an attempt at first aid.  Maybe he could staunch the blood.  His hands came down on her abdomen but didn’t feel a bleeding wound; it was nothing but entrails squishing under his hands.  He fought the urge to turn around and throw up and thanked the sky for blotting out the moon and saving him from seeing in any detail.  It was bad enough just wondering which organ he’d squished under his knee.

He blurted through a tight throat, “It’s gonna be all right.  I’ll get you help.”  That was a lie and he knew it.  He doubted even Estelle could save her in this state, but that didn’t stop him from trying to shove her intestines back where they came from so maybe he could put enough pressure on the wound to keep her alive until a doctor could get here.  He had to do something.  He wasn’t sure if she could manage words, but he tried, “What’s your name?”

She moaned as he felt around her body, frantically trying to shove bits of her back where they came from as if that would help.  He almost didn’t here her pained whispered, “Ma… ry….”  She let out a long breath and her head slumped to the side.

 “No, no, no, come on, Mary, keep fighting!”  What to do?  Run and get help?  From whom? Yuri knelt in blood and watched the woman struggle to breathe as she sat, motionless, with most of her insides on the outside.  If he left to try to find a miracle worker, she’d be dead by the time he returned.  The best he could do - the only thing he could do - was make sure she didn’t die alone.

On his knees, Yuri walked to her side and then wrapped his arms around her.  He pulled her head against his chest and hugged her tight. “It will be over soon.”  And he wished he’d remembered to bring his sword tonight.  Not so he could fight her attacker, because by the time he arrived it had been too late to make any difference, but so that maybe he could have slit her throat and ended it quickly.  

Mary’s breathing slowed and Yuri tightened his grip.  He wanted to rub her back but his hands were still soaked in her blood.  Yuri was no stranger to death and violence, but there was a big difference between killing on a battlefield and feeling an innocent life slip away amid carnage in his home neighbourhood. Mary let out one last shuddering breath and Yuri sighed; at least her suffering was over. 

“What’s going on down there?”

The sudden voice startled Yuri.  He looked up and when his grip slackened, Mary slipped forward on his chest.  On the main street stood a pair of knights, one of them holding a lamp.  

“About time,” Yuri barked.  If they’d been around earlier, they might have prevented Mary from being attacked in the first place. Yuri pulled away from Mary and rested her against the wall.  Her head lolled and the knights walked faster.  

“What’s wrong with that girl?  What’s - oh shit.”  His lantern cast the scene in grisly detail.  Someone had made a long, vertical slit in Mary’s stomach like they were gutting a pig.  Ropes of entrails hung down her waist, while the ground around her was splattered with blood, viscera, and one partly-squished kidney.  Yuri wasn’t willing to look down at himself yet and see just how much blood he’d gotten covered in.  

“What have you done to her?!” the other knight shouted.  

“Me?!”  Yuri held up his hands, but realized that was less than exonerating considering they were coated in blood like red gloves.  “The man who did this ran away when I approached.  I was trying to help.”

“Oh yeah?”  The knight with the lantern stood back, the light quivering in his shaking hand.  He other one marched forwad and grabbed Yuri’s arm, pulling him to his feet.  “Who was it?”

“I don’t know.  It was too dark to see.”

“A mysterious man in the dark, huh?  And what were you doing out on a night like this?”

Yuri yanked his arm away.  His muscles still vibrated from the panic and shock of what he’d just witnessed and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with idiotic knights.  “Why don’t you two assholes do you damn job and go after the bastard who did this!?  He ran off!”  His voice was raw and barely suppressed a tremor.  He could feel something thick and wet clinging to the side of his finger.  

Shouting at the knights had not made them more agreeable.  He was grabbed again, more roughly this time.  “I think you’d better come with us.”

It was amazing, when he thought about it, how he always managed to be in the exact wrong place at the wrong time.  

  
  



	5. Familiar Stranger

Yuri sat in the small front office of one of the Knight stations near the lower quarter. He’d been here for almost half an hour, he estimated, based on how the blood was drying on his hands and clothes. His shirt was starting to go stiff as the large patch of blood on his belly dried.

“I told you,” he said to the knight standing over him, “I had nothing to do with this!”

“You have a long criminal record for an ‘innocent’ man, Yuri Lowell.”

“There’s a pretty big difference between pushing a knight into the river and slaughtering a woman in an alley.” He tried to keep from clenching his fists because that just caused the blood and other sticky fluids that had been on Mary’s intestines to squeeze between his fingers. Maybe if they gave him a chance to wash his hands, he could get them to stop trembling. The sight of her mangled body, mixed with the feel of slippery entrails in his hands, the stench of blood, and her crying gasps as she died had shaken him up more than he wished to admit.

“Then why can’t you give us any more information about the stranger you allegedly saw fleeing the scene of the crime?”

Yuri thrust one bloodied hand to the window, which showed nothing but their own reflections against the darkness outside. “Because it’s night time. It’s this thing where the sun goes away and it goes all dark and people have trouble seeing clearly. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

The knight stabbed a finger in Yuri’s face, which was probably supposed to be intimidating but instead pissed him off more. “Don’t you smart mouth me. You may be friends with the commandant, but even he can’t pardon you after committing such a heinous crime.”

“Fine, because I didn’t do it.” He’d repeated that at least a dozen times in the past half hour. All he wanted to do was go home, take a long, hot shower, and then punch his pillow until he stopped shaking from the fury and awfulness. Instead, he was stuck sitting on a hard chair in a dingy room that smelled of armour polish, wasting everyone’s time when the knights should be out there looking for that shadowy figure who’d run away.

“’I didn’t do it’,” the knight repeated in a high-pitched voice Yuri was certain sounded nothing like him. “That’s what every guilty man says.”

“Have you considered that it’s also what every innocent man says? Because they - get this - didn’t do it?”

The door opened and a pair of knights entered. One was Leblanc, condensation from the the mist dripping down his armour, and the other was a tall man in civilian clothes. The civilian spoke first. “What is going on?”

“Sir!” the knight turned and saluted, and Yuri suspected he wasn’t a civilian after all. “We’ve apprehended this scum. We caught him in the act-” he grabbed Yuri’s wrist and pulled up his hand, “-red handed even.”

The civilian man’s brow furrowed and he looked between Yuri and the knight. “Explain, Rupert.”

“It’s simple, sir. We were patrolling down Short Street when we saw movement in one of the alleys. Sundlow lifted his lantern and we spotted someone crouched next to a motionless body. We approached and caught this man, covered in blood, surrounded by viscera. The victim was already dead.”

“I did not kill her!” His temper was dangerously close to boiling over. Part of him knew that punching a knight in the face would just make this worse for him, but after what he’d witnessed he was eager to punch someone and the knight might have to do.

Leblanc asked, “Lowell, what happened?”

“He keeps insisting he found her like that,” the knight said and then snorted. “A likely story.”

“I believe I asked Lowell to explain, not you.”

The knight shifted his feet. “Sorry, sir.”

Yuri leaned back in his chair and met Leblanc’s eyes, daring him to call him a liar. As plainly as he could, he recounted what had happened for what felt like the twelfth time that evening. When he finished, Rupert looked to Leblanc, eager to see his lieutenant call the suspect out on bullshit, but Leblanc only nodded gravely.

To the other man, Leblanc said, “Sir, I have reason to believe he’s telling the truth.”

“Hm…” the man said. He directed his gaze on Yuri. “And you didn’t notice any identifying features of the killer you saw?”

Yuri shook his head. “It was too dark. Who are you, by the way?”

“Ah, forgive me. I was off duty when Lieutenant Leblanc summoned me. I’m Captain Chapman; I oversee the policing of Zaphias.”

The name was familiar. Flynn had promoted a handful of new captains after he, Schwann, and Cumore were no longer heading brigades. The name Chapman had drifted around the lower quarter a few times, but Yuri didn’t think he’d heard anything notably good or bad attached to it. He was a noble, but at least not of the breed that produced Cumores. “Well, Chap, I’m telling the truth. I could have chased after the guy, but I decided to see if there was anything I could do to help the girl.”

“Captain,” Leblanc said, “this man was in conversation with me hardly fifteen minutes before Rupert and Sundlow found him. He couldn’t have been the culprit, unless he ran very fast.”

Rupert gaped at him and looked to Chapman for support. “But - well, isn’t it possible, sir? He could have run fast.”

“Did you find a weapon on him?” Chapman asked.

“Well… no. But he could have hidden it.”

Leblanc shook his head. “If the victim was as mangled as you say, he’d have needed much more than a little pen knife. Either he’d still have it on him or you’d have noticed it at the scene. Besides, I know Yuri Lowell. He’s a hooligan, sure, but he’s not a murderer.”

The door opened again and yet another knight - Sundlow - came in. “Oh! Captain! I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Have you been informed about the murder?” After Chapman nodded, he continued. “We’re still trying to identify the vic. Seems like early twenties - we think she was a streetwalker. It would explain what she was doing out alone on a night like this.”

Yuri’s anger started to heat up again. “Her name was Mary. And what does it matter why she was out?”

“A-ha!” Rupert pointed accusingly at him. “You knew the victim, did you? Had some part to play in this after all?”

Yuri glared at him. “She told me. I asked, and she gasped it out. She was gagged, too. I pulled the rag out of her mouth when I first arrived.”

Leblanc’s eyes shot to Yuri’s face and something akin to recognition flashed in them. “Gagged? Sundlow, how did you find the corpse?”

“Appalling, to be honest.”

“I meant, what did she look like? How was she positioned?”

“It really was appalling, sir. She was slumped against the wall of the alley with her guts all over. Someone stepped in the intestines, looks like, and there was a squashed kidney. We could check that for footprints.”

“No.” Yuri’s stomach twisted; he didn’t want to look at the underside of his boot. “That was me.”

Sundlow gave him a look that could only be sympathy. “Her hands were cuffed. Basic metal handcuffs, like the kind we use. Not much damage around the wrists, looks like, so I’d say she hadn’t been cuffed for very long.”

Leblanc was silent for a long moment. He stared at a spot on the wall, brows furrowed, and Yuri was dying to ask him what he’d recognized in the murderer’s MO.

Captain Chapman asked, “Young man, is there anything else you can tell us about the person you saw?”

Yuri shook his head. “It was dark. I think it was a man, he was taller than her, but that’s about it.”

Leblanc asked, “Do you think this could have anything to do with… what we’ve discussed?”

“No,” he said firmly. Whoever had killed her, it was not Flynn. Of that, Yuri was certain. He could force himself to believe Flynn would kill to protect his career, but nothing as pointless and sadistic as this.

“Thank you,” the captain said. “Head home and get washed up.”

Rupert gave him a dirty look as Yuri left the building. He let his feet guide him home because his mind was too busy thinking about other things, namely all the painful things he was going to do to the culprit. What really worried him, though, was that this was no normal murder. As far as he could tell, the killer had randomly struck a girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That meant that killer had done it because he liked killing, rather than because he wanted her dead. And a killer like that might strike again.

He stomped up the steps to his room. At the top of the stairs, the door to Karol and Judith’s room swung open. Light spilled onto the walkway and Karol said, “Oh, you’re back. We were wondering why you were so - is that blood?”

Yuri looked down at his hands and clothes. The fabric was dark, which obscured most of the blood, but he could feel it soaking through. “Don’t worry. It isn’t my blood.”

Judith popped up behind Karol. “That isn’t nearly as reassuring as you seem to think it is.”

Yuri opened his own door with his elbows to try to keep the handle clean. “Let me get washed up and I’ll tell you the full story.”

* * *

 

The murder in the lower quarter was one of the only topics of conversation the next day. At least Yuri assumed that’s what everyone was talking about, because they kept hushing themselves when he drew close and shooting him furtive looks while whispering to their friends. Despite the fact that only the knights involved and Yuri himself knew the details of the murder and that he had initially been implicated in it, by noon the next day the entire lower quarter knew that Yuri had been involved in a heinous crime. At least, Yuri was pretty sure most of the whispered rumours were along the lines of, “Did you hear the knights arrested Yuri Lowell for the murder?”

“Yuri? That nice boy who lives at the Comet? I don’t believe it for a second.”

Still, Yuri wished people would at least ask him about what had happened the night before rather than pass around increasingly morbid rumours. He was eating his lunch while sititing against a pillar near the central fountain when he heard whispering from the other side of the pillar. At first he was curious, and then he closed his eyes with a tiny sigh.

“You go talk to him,” a child hissed.

“No, you.”

“You do it, Ted, he knows you best.”

“Ok, ok, stop pushing me.”

A few seconds later, Ted appeared in front of Yuri, who did his best to look surprised. “Afternoon. Need something?”

“Um…” Ted scuffed his foot on the flagstones. “Is it true that you ripped out a woman’s intestines last night?”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

“Well, Tony on Caledonia Street said that you were gonna use them to make sausages and then feed them to people at the Comet.”

Yuri almost choked on his sandwich. After swallowing, he said, “If I did, why would I tell you?”

“’Cause we’re friends. You wouldn’t do that to me.”

Yuri surveyed Ted for a few seconds and then said, “True. You’re too small. Not enough intestines to make a good sausage.”

“Yuri!” His hand shot over his gut. “I know you’re just pulling my leg.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Well… ok, I know Tony was just making up the sausage thing. I mean, that’s really dumb, right? But you did pull out someone’s intestines, right?”

“What? No.” His half-eaten sandwich sat on his knee, forgotten. “Ted, why would you think I’d do that to someone?”

“Well…” Ted shuffled his feet again. “She probably deserved it, right? I mean, that’s what you do to bad people like Alexei. Everyone’s saying you killed someone, but I just knew you did it for justice or something, right?”

Yuri shook his head. “No, Ted, that’s not what happened. Someone else killed that girl. I just happened to arrive as she was dying.”

“Ohhh.” Ted’s eyes widened in understanding, and then quickly turned to fear. “Wait, so that means there’s a real evil murderer in the lower quarter? Some guy killed that girl just because? Are you the one who pulled out her intestines or was that him, too?”

“Of course it was him. Why would I pull out someone’s intestines?”

“I don’t know! I don’t question you, Yuri.”

“Go tell your friends that I didn’t kill anyone last night, and that they should be home before dark because there’s a killer on the loose.”

Ted nodded firmly. “Right!” He scampered off and Yuri heard him eagerly recounting his findings to his friends.

Yuri watched them run off, still wondering at the ability of rumours to circulate. He had a brief thought that he should tell Flynn about the rumour that he was a human-sausage-making cannibal, and then remembered that he wasn’t friends with Flynn anymore. Or maybe it was just for now. Or… agh, he didn’t know.

Yuri passed the rest of the day correcting rumours whenever he could. As funny as the cannibal rumours may be, the idea that people were debating behind his back whether or not he’d murdered Mary frustrated him. Every time he caught people whispering together and glancing meaningfully at him, he strode up and announced, “Hello. Are you interested in the murder that happened last night? Let me tell you all about it.” By the fourth time he did this, he may have added a few too many gory details, based on the nauseated look on the woman’s face, but he was getting pretty tired of people suspecting him of committing a crime that still disturbed him when he thought about it.

In the evening, he and Judy were having dinner in the Comet when the innkeeper marched up to him. “Yuri.”

Yuri tried to sound pleasant as he said, “Yes?” If one more person asked if he’d murdered Mary….

“Did you tell Ted and the other kids that there’s a murderer on the loose?”

He was halfway to saying, ‘For the last time, I didn’t kill her,’ before registering her actual question. “Hm? Oh, that. Yeah.”

She smacked his head with an envelope. “Why would you tell them that?”

“Because there is a murderer on the loose.”

“And now you’ve terrified all the children in the neighbourhood. Their parents had already warned them they’d better be home by curfew. You didn’t have to give them wild stories about… about sausage-eating cannibal serial killers or whatever they’re convinced is hiding around every corner.”

Yuri folded his arms. “I just told them the facts. I never said anything about cannibals or serial killers. I just said there was a dangerous person in the area and they should be careful. What’s wrong with telling kids what’s going on?”

“Because they were already scared when they found out how Mary’s body was found. You didn’t have to go giving them more details and implying that this is the start of another wave of terror. Just warn them to be careful and reassure them that the Knights have it under control.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Ok, fine, next time I’ll tell them not to be scared, there is no murderer, just a large fluffy bunny who wants to be their friend.”

She whacked him with the envelope. “Here, this came for you. Just promise not to terrify small children.”

Yuri saw Estelle’s name on the envelope and ripped it open while saying, “Yeah, yeah.” He was too eager to read what Estelle had to say.

_Dear Yuri,_

_It’s so nice to hear from you. No, Rita hasn’t blown up her house yet. Although… she did explode a pot. Apparently she tried to make boiled eggs, but then she forgot about them while reading a book, and, well… the water boiled away and the eggs blew up. It was such a mess! I wish we had Repede here to lick the floor for us._

_About Flynn… hm, I can’t think of anything. We had dinner together the night before I left and he seemed his usual self. I can’t think of anything about him that would seem ‘off’ and as far as I know, he hasn’t had any particular problems come up, other than the usual commandant business. He did say he had a lot of work coming up - something about a prison he was investigating for human rights abuses - so maybe he’s feeling extra stressed? I wouldn’t worry about it, Yuri. You know how Flynn gets when he’s obsessed with a project. Have you talked to Sodia? If you’re still concerned, you could try asking Ioder. He’s in Dahngrest for a little while doing meetings with the Union. Oh, maybe that’s why Flynn is stressed! He’s the highest ranking person in Zaphias while Ioder is out of town, so I’m sure that’s a lot of pressure on him._

_Oh no, I hear Rita in the kitchen again. I should probably go intervene before she blows something else again. Give my love to Judith, Karol, and Repede!_

_Love, Estelle_

_P.S. Your spelling is getting much better, Yuri, but just so you know, ‘your’ is possessive and ‘you’re’ is a contraction for ‘you are’. ‘You’r’ isn’t anything. I’d be happy to help you with grammar the next time I see you!_

“What does it say?” Judy asked, leaning forward as Yuri’s eyes darted over the letter.

Yuri tossed it on the table between them. Bitterly, he said, “Nothing. Flynn was normal when she left, now he’s not, I have no idea why.”

“Hm….” Judith picked up the letter and read it herself. “At the very least, this means we can rule out a long-oncoming illness that’s put him out of sorts. Estelle’s been gone for about two months, so whatever happened, happened within two months.”

“What could it be though? How could he suddenly change with no warning?”

Judith stirred a piece of meat around her bowl of stew. “This might sound strange… but have you considered that it isn’t really Flynn?”

Yuri creased his brow. “Who else could it be? Flynn doesn’t have any brothers. He looks exactly like him.”

“I was just thinking. Remember when Yeager tricked us into helping him in Nordopolica? When he used that disguise to talk to us as ‘Regaey’.”

Yuri’s face lit up with hope. “Hey, you’re right. I don’t know how he did that, but if someone else got the same technology, then they could pretend to be Flynn. We’ll have to find out how. Do you think we can track down Gauche and Droite? They might know how he did it. Although….” Yuri’s excitement faded. “It was probably a blastia. Now that they’re gone, I doubt anyone else would be able to disguise themselves like that. Besides, someone might be able to look like Flynn, but perfectly replicating his voice and posture and everything would be pretty difficult.”

“I think it’s possible. If someone watched him for a while, studying and practising. A trained actor, perhaps.”

Yuri didn’t want to think that he could be fooled by an actor, but the idea was preferable to thinking that Flynn had gone rogue. “Maybe,” he relented.

* * *

 

A few days later, Yuri woke up to a banging on his door. Bleary eyed and yawning, he crawled out of bed and pulled the door open. The sight of a pair of knights quickened the waking process.

“I didn’t do it.” He had no idea what this was about, but he’d done nothing but bum around the lower quarter lately, so he couldn’t possibly be guilty of anything.

“Guilty conscience, eh? The commandant wants to see you.”

“I’m busy.” He started to close the door, but the knight pushed it open. “It’s not a request.”

Luckily the knights gave Yuri a chance to get dressed before marching him through the grey morning. He guessed Flynn was ordering a meeting just so he could talk about what happened the last time they met, which Yuri felt wasn’t a good enough reason to further the rumours that he was a suspect in the murder case. It was early, but not so early that no one else was on the street to see him being led away by knights.

Flynn was sitting at his desk when they arrived. The leading knight saluted and announced, “Yuri Lowell, as requested, sir.”

“Thank you. You are dismissed.” The knights left, shutting the door behind them. Flynn gestured at the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Yuri.”

Yuri strolled across the office, but remained standing. “What is this about, Flynn? It better be important. I was having a very nice dream when your henchmen woke me up.”

“I heard about what happened the other night. Are you alright?”

Yuri crossed his arms. “Do I look hurt? Are your knights getting close to finding the creep who did it, or are you roadblocking that investigation, too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you’re interfering with Lenore’s case. What, don’t want your little knights to figure out their boss is the killer?”

“Are you still going on about that?” Flynn waved his hand. “I’ve already explained I didn’t kill her.”

“You’ve explained, sure. I just haven’t seen a reason to trust your explanation.” The bruise by his eye was fading but the shadow of the injury was still faintly visible.

“It hurts that you don’t trust me, Yuri. I’ve been trying to talk to you for days, but you keep avoiding me. I’m sorry for the rude awakening, but I didn’t know how else to talk to you.”

“Give me one reason to stay in this room and not walk out right now. I have no interest in talking to you if all you’re going to do is tell me you had nothing to do with Lenore’s death.”

“You can’t leave.” Flynn shrugged. “The knights are still stationed outside the door and they’ve been informed to stop you from leaving the castle until I give permission.”

Yuri’s scowl deepened. “I thought the law was that you can’t detain anyone unless you’re officially charging them with something.” Yuri was no expert in Imperial law, but over the years he’d become very informed on the exact specifics of when the knights were allowed to throw him in a cell.

Flynn met Yuri’s eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”

Yuri glared back, more worried than angry. This complete dismissal of the law was so… not Flynn. Maybe Judith was right and this really was a different man altogether. Except, the quirk in his eyes, the way he held his lips - it was the exact cocky defiance Flynn always saved for Yuri. Who else could replicate that? Who else could have seen Flynn making that expression enough to copy it?

“What did you drag me in here for?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I heard you had a close encounter with a serial killer and was concerned for you. Is that a crime?”

“I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Anyway, why does everyone keep jumping to call this a serial killer? For all we know, this was a one-off crime.”

“There was another murder last night.”

Yuri fixed his eyes on Flynn, irritation with him pushed aside for the moment. “Another? Where? It’s connected?”

“We’re quite sure it was the same perpetrator.” Flynn folded his hands on his desk. “Early morning street cleaners found the body on Pleasant Avenue this morning. Same cause of death - evisceration with evidence that someone purposefully pulled her internal organs out of the slit in the abdomen. Marks around the wrists indicate she was cuffed.”

Yuri let out a tense breath. “Dammit. This is going to keep happening, isn’t it? Unless we catch the guy.”

“ _We_ are not going to do anything. Leave this to me, Yuri. I don’t want you to get involved.”

“You’re not going to stop me. If someone is killing people in my neighbourhood, I’m going to catch the bastard.”

Flynn shook his head. “It’s dangerous. I don’t want you going after him alone.”

“You think I can’t handle myself?” Yuri crossed his arms. “Hell, Flynn, by now you should know I can take care of myself.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt! I care about you too much to let this guy go after you, too.”

“I don’t need you babysitting me. Tell me what you know about the case so far.”

Flynn grabbed a folder from his desk and tucked it into a drawer. “It’s none of your business.”

“Flynn! What are you babying me for?!”

Flynn stared at his drawer in thought, and then looked up. “I’ll let you help if you work with me. We can do it together, as long as you don’t go off on your own.” Flynn rose from his chair and rounded his desk. “This is how it’s supposed to be, right? You and me, working together?” He wrapped his fingers around Yuri’s hand.

“If we work together on this, will you tell me what really happened to Lenore?”

Flynn’s grip tightened. “Yuri….”

“What are the details of this new case? Who was the victim?”

“A young woman. If you promise-”

“What was her name?”

“She was from the other side of the lower quarter, so she wasn’t anyone we know.”

Yuri stiffened and wondered if it was his imagination making Flynn’s grip seem so much colder. “I didn’t ask if I knew her, I just asked her name.”

With his free hand, Flynn waved that problem away. “It doesn’t matter. She was no one of importance. That point is that if you work with me-”

Yuri yanked his hand away from Flynn’s grip. “She was doesn’t matter? She was a person, Flynn!” His hand turned into a fist and it was the work of miracles that it smashed into Flynn’s desk and not his nose. “What the hell do you mean ‘she was no one of importance’?”

“Stop getting angry at me over petty things.”

“Petty?” Yuri jabbed a finger at Flynn’s chest. “You’re telling me that an innocent girl was murdered last night, but I shouldn’t even care what her name was because I didn’t happen to know her? That because she wasn’t a friend of yours, she doesn’t _matter_? She’s just another fact in a case file that will lead to you catching a scary criminal and winning more brownie points, huh? Do you have any idea who you sound like?”

Flynn’s expression remained level. “Like a professional knight who doesn’t let personal emotion interfere with what needs to be done.”

“Everything you’ve been doing lately… you’re starting to sound like Alexei.”

Flynn batted Yuri’s hand away. “So what if I am? He was a strong commandant.”

“He was a maniac who made a lot of people cry.”

Flynn sighed and rolled his eyes. “’Made people cry’? Yuri, that’s pathetic. You sound like a child. Making people smile is what we said when we were kids, but that doesn’t mean we should stick to that for the rest of our lives. Giving a child cake every day will make them smile, but is that good for them in the long run? Children need a firm hand to help them grow.”

“Oh, and part of that firm hand is not giving a rat’s ass about a girl who was murdered? People aren’t children. All we can do is make the world a place they can smile at so they can take care of growing by themselves. If you start trying to be the ‘firm hand’ who will make people suffer for the ‘greater good’, you’re going to turn into the next Alexei.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing! Have you ever considered that Commandant Alexei had the right idea? It wasn’t his fault the Adephagos was lying in wait.”

Yuri stepped away from Flynn, locking eyes with him while shaking his head. “Damn… Judy was right, wasn’t she? You’re not Flynn at all.”

“What are you talking about?”

Yuri glanced to the office door. If this stranger attacked him, would knights come in if he shouted? He was acutely aware that he hadn’t been given time to grab his sword before being escorted up here. “Who are you?”

The other man rolled his eyes. “Are you really doing this, Yuri? You’ve known me for years.”

“I’ve known Flynn for ages. But you’re not him, are you? Where is he?”

“He’s standing in front of you.”

“Sure. Then tell me…” He tried to think of something only Flynn would know, but then realized information wasn’t reliable. This impostor was mimicking Flynn so perfectly, he could have gotten the answers somehow. “Flynn has a scar on his hip. Actually more like his thigh.” And he knew Flynn was loathe to let anyone else see it, because he got it falling out of a tree when he was eight and was embarrassed to tell the story. The only way someone would know it was there was if they watched him undress.

“What about it?”

“If you’re really Flynn, you have that scar too, right?”

“Of course I do, because I am Flynn. This is ridiculous, Yuri.”

“Prove it.”

“Are your really asking me to take my pants off right here?”

“Just show me the scar.”

Flynn glared at him for a few seconds, and then rolled his eyes. “Very well, if it will shut you up.” He unbuckled his belt and pulled his shirt up. One hand holding it up, the other tugged down one side of his pants as he twisted to show Yuri the outer side of this upper thigh.

Yuri’s heart sank. There was the jagged lined, exactly where he knew it should be.

“Are you satisfied?” He yanked his pants up and redid his belt. “I can tell you how I got it, too. It was the summer I turned eight and you said it was impossible to climb the tallest tree in the lower quarter because the branches at the top were too skinny. I wanted to prove you wrong, so I tried climbing. It turns out the branches _were_ too skinny, one cracked, and I tumbled down. My belt loop snagged on something while falling, which tugged my pants down my thighs, delightfully mooning the whole neighbourhood.”

Yuri wanted to laugh because that story always made him laugh. He couldn’t, though, because as far as he knew, the only people who knew that story were himself, Flynn, and Flynn’s mother. Flynn hated that story; he’d never have told it to anyone else. Could Yuri have spread it? That must be it. He must have told it to someone as a joke and forgotten about it, and that person spread it, and then this actor found a magical tool to change his appearance.

“What I especially remember, though.” Flynn’s face softened at the memory. “Was that even though you laughed when I first started falling, when I finally bounced to the ground, you stopped laughing as soon as you saw I was bleeding. You helped me straighten my pants and let me lean on you as I limped home. You even apologized for daring me to climb the tree in the first place.”

Yuri swallowed heavily. He certainly would never have admitted to apologizing to Flynn. How could this be real? How could this be the actual Flynn claiming Alexei had been right?

While Yuri reeled in shock, Flynn’s face hardened again. “You used to always support me. Now you accuse me of murder, or of not even being myself. That’s pretty rich, Yuri. _You_ murdered Ragou and Cumore. Why did you have to go and dirty your hands? You’ve become nothing but a thug.”

“Excuse me? Don’t you dare try to take the moral high ground when you’re planning to execute dozens of people just to make room.”

“You know what? I was wrong to call you in here today. I thought we had something. I thought you were someone I would always be able to count on. But you’re just a naive hypocrite. I’ll deal with this case by myself. Go chasing after a serial killer all you want. You’re going to get yourself killed and it will serve you right.”

Yuri squeezed his fingers and resisted the urge to punch him. “Yeah, and fuck you too, Flynn.” He whirled around and stormed across the room. A dozen painful thoughts swirled in his brain but he refused to think about any of them right now. When he shoved the door open, a knight standing by grabbed his arm.

“Let him go,” Flynn called from his desk. “I have no more use for him.”

Yuri’s last glimpse of Flynn was of him sitting back down at his desk, refusing to look up. Still furious, Yuri marched down the hall, eager to get away. That man was physically Flynn, Yuri knew that, but mentally… emotionally… it terrified him to think that the Flynn he loved had been usurped by that bastard, but was there any way to change his personality back?


	6. Discoveries

Leaving Zaphias had never made Yuri so relieved.  He was usually relaxed and comfortable when he visited his home town, but ever since they arrived, it had felt like an oppressive cloud had hung over him that had nothing to do with the persistent rain.  From the lower quarter whispering about whether or not he was a killer to Flynn’s complete divergence from his usual self, it hardly felt like he was home at all.  When Karol suggested they return to Dahngrest and try to talk to Ioder, he’d leapt at the chance to get out of the city.  

Unsurprisingly, Dahngrest didn’t offer any relief from the dreary weather.  It was raining just enough to notice but not enough to bother putting their hoods up when Ba’ul set them down outside the city and they made their way toward the Altosk headquarters.  Dahngrest was always overcast, so the streets were busier here than they would have been back in Zaphias with the same dampness in the air.  Here, they were used to the miserable weather.  Yuri wasn’t sure if he was ready to join them yet in that respect.  He was happy to live in Dahngrest as part of a guild, but he’d always be a Zaphian at heart.  At the very least, it promised a higher annual average of sunshine.  

Ioder was in a meeting with Harry Whitehorse when they arrived at Altosk, so they were shown to a waiting room and left to sit.  Yuri found a deck of cards in a desk drawer and the three of them entertained themselves playing card games.  It was the most relaxed Yuri had felt since the night he met Flynn.  

Half an hour later, the door opened and Ioder entered the room, followed by Raven.  Karol jumped to his feet, but Yuri and Judith remained sitting at the table in the middle of the room.  “Good evening, everyone,” Ioder said.  “I was told you came all the way from Zaphias to find me.  Is something wrong?”

Brave Vesperia exchanged a look; where to begin?

“Ouch, sounds like somethin’ big.”  Raven slunk across the room to sink into Karol’s abandoned chair.  Yuri assumed he’d been in the meeting with Ioder and Harry, and wasn’t displeased with his presence now.  He could take any advice he could get.  

“It’s Flynn,” Yuri began.  “He’s been acting pretty weird since we arrived.”

“What do you mean, ‘weird’?” Ioder asked.  “I’ve always had nothing but respect for Flynn.”

“For one thing, I think he murdered Lenore Avondale.”

Ioder knit his eyebrows.  “Murder?  But why would he do that?  That doesn’t sound like Flynn at all.”

“That’s why we’re worried,” Judith said.  

“Tell me the full story.”

Yuri explained as succinctly as he could. He went over Flynn’s uncharacteristic ruling in the prison case, Lenore’s threat and Flynn’s subsequent refusal to explain where he was the night of her death, and - most damning of all as far as Yuri was concerned - his belief that Alexei had been right.  

“Geeze…”  Raven rubbed his chin.  “That doesn’t sound like him at all.  Flynn’s usually so sparkly and pure.  Hey, have ya considered an impostor? Like when Yeager-”

“We’ve discussed it,” Yuri said.  “I confronted him about it, but I’m positive he’s Flynn.  He recounted memories from our childhood that no one else could have known about, and he had a scar.  I'm sure I'm the only other person who knows about it."

Ioder considered this for a few seconds.  “If you’re positive it’s Flynn, I would have to tread very carefully.  I’m concerned about this legislation he passed to get more power, but if the Council agreed to it, it’s legal.  I’m limited in my power to veto things.  Besides which, I can’t go back to Zaphias right now unless there’s a true emergency.  These trade negotiations are critical and very fragile.”

“I’m not asking you to come back and fix things,” Yuri said.  “I really wanted to talk to you about Flynn and whether you know anything about what might cause his change in attitude.”

Ioder thought for a long moment, lips pursed and brow furrowed.  “Hm… not that I can think of.  I didn’t notice anything abnormal before I left.  I had no reason to believe leaving him in charge would cause any problems.”

Yuri slumped his shoulders.  Getting information from Ioder had been his last hope, but it looked like nobody had any clue what could be causing Flynn’s change in attitude.  

“Has he done anything illegal?” Ioder asked.

Yuri scowled.  “Yes.  He killed someone.”

“So you suspect, but you don’t have any proof, correct?”

“Well… nothing concrete.”

Ioder sighed.  “I’m sorry, everyone.  I wish I could help you.  I’m not sure I approve of everything Flynn has been doing in my absence, but as long as he hasn’t broken the law, there isn’t anything I can do to stop him.   I trust Flynn and I have to have faith that he has a larger plan in the works that will make sense of everything.”

Yuri folded his arms on the table and forced himself not to say something snippy.  He knew Ioder was doing all he could… it just wasn’t enough.  Yuri couldn’t find the optimism to assume Flynn had some grand plan in the works.  Unlike Ioder, he’d confronted Flynn about this directly.  He knew Flynn, and if Flynn had a secret, altruistic motive, Yuri would know it.  

“I’m sorry, Yuri,” said Ioder, who seemed to read Yuri’s face even if he didn’t voice his thoughts.  “I understand that you know Flynn best.  Please understand that unless the commandant is actually breaking the law, I can’t abandon the trade negotiations here just to check on him.”

“I get it.”  He didn’t expect Ioder to swoop in and fix things, but he was disappointed that the emperor was so limited.  

“What about Estellise?” Ioder suggested.  “Perhaps she knows something about-”

“I’ve asked.”

Ioder frowned.  “In that case… there’s nothing else I can suggest.  I’ll try to return to Zaphias as soon as possible, but it may still be some time.”

Karol said, “We understand.  Thanks for taking the time to meet with us, Your Majesty.”

Ioder left, but Raven stuck around.  “Sounds like you’ve been having a tough couple o’ weeks.”

“It’s certainly been a mess,” Judith said.

“Do you need to go back with Ioder, Raven?” Karol asked.

Raven waved his hand.  “Nah.  I was sittin’ in and advising Harry, but he’s a big boy.  He can handle talking ta Ioder without me.  Not like Ioder’s terribly experience being an emperor, either.  Let’s go get some dinner.”

It was nice to have an upbeat dinner with friends.  Yuri let himself forget about the trouble brewing in Zaphias and relaxed at the restaurant.  He hadn’t seen Raven in a while, so it was nice to catch up.  No one brought up the trouble in Zaphias as they ate, and if the conversation drifted toward any mention of Flynn, they quickly changed it.  

The evening was dying down when they finally came back to a serious topic.  “So, what’s this about a murderer in Zaphias?” Raven asked, pushing a final piece of sausage around his plate.

“It’s awful.”  Karol shuddered.  “Two people have been killed so far.  Some guy cut them open and pulled out their insides.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed.  “This happened in the lower quarter?”

Yuri nodded.  “I caught the first one in the act, but I wasn’t quick enough to catch the guy before he ran off.  The victims have been two young women from the lower quarter.  Both had their hands bound, then disemboweled.”  A flash of familiarity crossed Raven’s face and Yuri recalled that Leblanc seemed to have seen something familiar in the case as well.  “Does that mean anything to you, old man?”

Raven stared at the trail of sauce his fork made on the plate.  “Hm… it bears a strong resemblance to a case I worked on a while ago.”

“Leblanc seemed to think so, too.”

Raven looked up.  “Leblanc thinks so, too?  Were either of the victims gagged?”

Yuri nodded.  “The one I interrupted was gagged.  The other wasn’t, but she also was found only with marks of handcuffs not the actual thing, so I guess the killer could have taken the gag when he left the scene.”

Raven nodded slowly. “Yeah… I’d be willing to bet there’s a connection to this old case.”

“What happened?” Judith was leaning forward, eager for what was sure to be a bloody story.

“This was back… oh, not quite ten years ago.  I think you woulda been… thirteen? Fourteen?”  Raven looked to Yuri and scratched his head.  “I just realized I have no idea what time of year your birthday even is.”

“It’s in early winter.”

“Winter, ok, so you’d have been thirteen.  In the spring of that year, some corpses started showin’ up in Zaphias.  It was causin’ quite the stir, so Alexei put the Schwann Brigade in charge.  Man, we worked around the clock tryin’ ta catch the bastard.”

“Was it the same murder method?” Karola asked.

Raven nodded.  “That’s right.  Same thing every time.  Some poor girl - a few boys, too, younger mostly - would be found in some back alley, belly cut open like a gutted pig.  Looked like he cuffed their hands, gagged them, and then… had fun.  Nothin’ sexual,” he quickly added at the look of disgust on Yuri’s face.  “Though I don’t know if that makes it any better, come ta think of it.  Nah, looks like this guy got his rocks off playing with insides.  Fishing around, pulling stuff out, playing amateur surgeon.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose, unable to stop thinking about the scene he’d walked in on.  “That’s barbaric.”

“I’ll say.  We called him the Backstreet Butcher, or just the Butcher.  A newspaper came up with it, I think.  All told, he had… eight victims, yeah.  It lasted about a month.  The first victims came within a few days of each other, then the killin’s petered off.”

“Why?” Karol asked.

Raven shrugged.  “If ya ask me, he got bored.  Maybe he found a new hobby.  Maybe he got himself a girlfriend.  Maybe he moved away.  Who knows?  We never caught the guy.”

Yuri scowled at the table.  “And now he’s back.”

“Looks like it.  Leblanc worked on that case back when he was a new recruit.  If he thinks it’s the same guy, I trust his judgement.”

“It could be a copycat,” Judith suggested.  “

“Yeah, could be.”  Raven leaned back and made himself comfortable.  “No way ta know for sure.”

“Unless we catch him,” Yuri said.  

The others gave him a look.  Then they looked at each other.  There was a silent agreement that Karol should be the one to say it.  “Yuri… it’s not Brave Vesperia’s job to catch serial killers.”

Judith added, “We said we’d help with Flynn, but this case isn’t actually related to that.”

“They’re right,” Raven said.  “Catchin’ killers is the Knights’ job.”

Yuri folded his arms, but he didn’t argue.  It was true and he knew it.  Crime in the Empire was handled by the Knights, and he trusted Flynn… well, he trusted Sodia and Leblanc, at least, to deal with it.  The only reason he felt personally motivated was the rumours that he was the culprit, and he was keen to quash those rumours once and for all before they entered the status of lower quarter myth.  Guilds couldn’t just go around dealing with crime in the capital of the Empire, especially if no one was hiring them to do so.  They couldn’t afford to abandon all other missions and hang out in Zaphias for weeks trying to find clues without any official resources from the knights, who were actually trained in this.  

“You’re right.  We shouldn’t concern ourselves with the affairs of the Empire.  Now that we’re back in Dahngrest, we should get some new contracts so we can afford the rent on our building this month.”

“Right!” Karol said.  

“But… I think I need to go back to Zaphias.”

Karol slumped.  “Yuri, we just talked about this.  If there’s a serial killer in Zaphias, there’s not much we can do about it.”

“I know, but this is about Flynn.  I don’t feel right walking away when something is clearly wrong with him.”  He didn’t know what was going on with Flynn or how he might fix it - if it was even fixable.  He just knew that he wouldn’t be comfortable leaving Flynn alone in Zaphias when he quite possibly was growing more corrupt by the day.  If there was a way to help Flynn, he wouldn’t find it out running missions in Tolbyccia.

“I understand,” Judith said.  “Flynn is in trouble.  You need to support him.”

Karl nodded.  “Alright, Yuri.  You can take some time off from the guild to deal with Flynn.  Meanwhile, we’ll get back to work here.  But as your guild boss, I have to warn you not to be gone too long.”

“I’ll try to wrap things up as quickly as I can.  Thanks for the allowance, boss.”

* * *

 

Brave Vesperia dropped Yuri off in Zaphias a few days later.  As he was disembarking the Fiertia, Repede trotted up and began leaving, too.

“Repede, stay with Karol and Judy.  You have a duty to the guild, too.”

Repede growled and sat by Yuri’s feet, making it very clear he had no intention of going back.  

Karol laughed.  “Looks like Repede is worried about Flynn, too.”

“Is that it?”  Yuri rubbed Repede’s head.  “All right, you can come with me.”

“Good luck, Yuri,” Judith said.  

Yuri waved goodbye and then entered the city, wondering when his hometown had started to feel so ominous.  Storm clouds gathered overhead, threatening another deluge later tonight.  He’d stayed in Dahngrest longer than he’d planned, partly because he felt bad making Ba’ul fly him all the way here and back after taking them to Dahngrest originally, and partly to put off dealing with Flynn.  Now that he was back, he had to admit he didn’t have a plan.  He wandered to the Comet, not knowing where else to go.  Inside, he spotted Hanks having dinner by himself against the wall, and made his way over.

“Hey, old timer.  Mind if I sit down?”

“Go on, then,” Hanks gestured to the seat across from him with a fork.  “Haven’t seen you around in a few days.”

“I’ve been in Dahngrest.”  Repede curled up under the table.  “Any news around here?”

“Nothing particularly.”  Hanks shrugged.  “There’s been more knights around in the evenings.  They’re trying to catch that killer.”

“There hasn’t been a third victim?”

Hanks shook his head.  “No, nothing like that.  Flynn seems to be taking it pretty seriously, though.  They say he’s taken personal responsibility for the case rather than delegate it to a captain.”

“That’s something at least.”  Yuri folded his arms and leaned back, trying to tell himself this was a good sign.  If Flynn was getting personally involved, maybe it meant the flippancy he’d shown toward the victims the other day wasn’t real, or perhaps he’d felt guilty after their talk and decided to get involved.  “Have they got any leads?”

“Not as far as I know.  They never made much progress last time around, either.”

Last time….  Yuri remembered what the innkeeper had said the other day, about ‘implying that this is the start of another wave of terror.’  He should have asked her then what she meant by ‘another’.  “So you guys think this is the same guy, too?  The… what was the name, Backstreet Butcher?”

“Oh, you know about him?”

“A friend told me.”  Yuri straightened up.  “I remember it, vaguely.  That spring when all the adults in the lower quarter suddenly got paranoid and kept telling me and Flynn to be home before dark.  Flynn said he thought something was up because they kept having hushed conversations and clamming up whenever they realized we were listening.”

Hanks nodded.  “We didn’t want to scare you kids.  Well… I argued in favour of telling you and Flynn at least - the older kids, you know - but the others insisted it would only give you nightmares.”

“Eight victims in total, my friend said.”

“That’s right.  None were from our neighbourhood, though.  I guess that’s why they felt comfortable leaving you kids in the dark.  It always felt like something happening elsewhere.”  He watched Yuri’s pensive face for a few moments and then said, “Don’t worry, Yuri.  Flynn’s taken this case on personally, and I know he’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Yeah….”

“Are you and Flynn still fighting?”

“I suppose we are.”

“Don’t worry about it.  You and Flynn will sort things out soon, and in the meantime I trust him to catch this killer.  After all, if we can’t trust Flynn, who else can we?”

* * *

 

Yuri didn’t know what to do about Flynn.  He’d abandoned his guild in order to work on this alone, but he didn’t know how to actually do that.  The day after he arrived, he woke up and listened to the rain pounding the street outside.  Somewhere in this city was Flynn, who may or may not be going mad with power and Yuri had no idea what to do about it.  

He sighed and rolled over.  “What do you think, Repede?  Should I go punch him in the face until he’s back to normal?”

Repede whined.  

“Yeah, that probably won’t work.”  Sounded like fun, though.  He wished Estelle was here.  Even if she didn’t have a plan, at least she was also close to Flynn and he’d have someone to talk to.  What kind of advice would she give?  Yuri smiled a little as he tried to imagine Estelle reciting some passage from a book about personality disorders.  He folded his arms beneath his head and thought deeper.  Maybe Estelle had the right idea.  If she was here, she’d probably suggest going to the library to find if there were any historical precedents for a case like this.  Yuri had never been to the Zaphias library before, but he had no other leads so he may as well give it a shot.  

Dogs weren’t allowed in the library, so Yuri went alone.  The old stone building stood in the royal quarter, which meant by the time he walked all the way there, he was thoroughly soaked.  When the heavy wooden door thumped shut behind him, the downpour fell silent. He didn’t have any pins, but you could hear the water dropping from his shirt under the domed ceiling.  Yuri walked forward, his wet footsteps squeaking on the slick, checkered floor.  He stood at the end of a long hall, with bookshelves stretching away into the distance.  The second floor overlooked the main hall, letting him see another stretch of books fading into eternity for all he knew.  There were tables spaced throughout the hall where people silently sat, hunched over books.  A few of them had looked up when the door opened and were now watching him with judgemental eyes as he stood, dripping a puddle onto the floor, staring around at the books in overwhelmed wonder.  How in the world was he supposed to find what he was looking for here?  They must be thinking he’d walked in here by mistake, and Yuri was starting to wonder if they were right.  

Footsteps were readily noticed in the grave-like silence, so he quickly noticed the rail-thin man hurrying up to him.  He braced himself, ready for a condescending noble to tell him to get out of here.

“Do you need help, sir?” the man asked in a low voice.

“Uh… maybe.  I’m looking for-” every person in the room glared at him as his voice carried.  Yuri adjusted and tried to speak more softly.  “I want to learn about things that can change someone’s personality.  Would… that be in here?”

He beamed at him.  “If you want to learn, the Imperial Library is the best place to start.  If you want to know about personality, that would be in the psychology section.  Do you know how to find it?”

Yuri surveyed the aisles of books.  It seemed there were more books in here than stars in the sky.  He’d never seen so many books in one place in his life.  It had always seemed funny how Estelle knew so much random stuff, but if the castle library was even half the size of this one, no wonder she knew something about everything.  If she were here, she’d no doubt have already found exactly what she needed and been nose-deep in it.  Yuri was as out of his element in her domain as she had been when he first took her out of the castle.  She’d caught up amazingly quick, though, and Yuri was determined to match her success.  There were so many books, so they had to be organized somehow so that people could find anything.  It was probably organized by alphabet, but he didn’t see any signs pointing to which aisle contained which letters.  “I think I can find psychology,” he said, and then remembered to lower his voice again.  “But which section is the S’s?”

By the look on the librarian’s face, he’d said something silly.  Thankfully, all he said was, “That won’t work here.  Follow me, I’ll take you to the right section.”  

He led him out of the central hall and down an aisle.  Books towered overhead and Yuri struggled to comprehend just how much information was surrounding him.  How could every book say something unique?   

“Is this your first time in the Imperial Library?” the librarian asked.

“Yeah,” he said while still gazing around at the books.  “First time in any library, actually.  We don’t have them in the lower quarter.”

“That’s such a shame.  Every time I pass through the lower quarter, it always feels so empty with no library around.  I’ve always thought that if the lower classes had access to better education, they wouldn’t be so downtrodden.  I suppose that’s why the Council always rejects the funding to build a library down there.”

There was another hallway parallel to the main one, though this one was narrower and devoid of people.  The librarian led Yuri to an aisle of books that dead-ended at the lacquered wooden panel wall.  “Here we are.”

Yuri looked for signs, but the aisles were numbered rather than displaying letters.  “This is the… S section?”

“No, no, this is the section for psychology. Over there,” he pointed to his left, “is parapsychology and occultism, and if you go further you reach philosophical logic.  It’s subdivided into more specific sections. Within each section, it’s organized by author last name.  Do you know any authors you want to look for?”

Yuri gazed at the walls of books.  The aisle of psychology books  towered over his head and stretched at least thirty feet in front of him.  “Not a clue.  All these books are about psychology?”

“That’s right.  You said you’re looking for books on changing personality?”

“Yeah.”

The librarian hurried down the aisle.  “You should start here, in mental processes and intelligence, or the next section, subconscious and altered states.”

“Wow.  Thanks a lot.”

“Let me know if you need any help.”  He beamed at him and then hurried away.  

Yuri was left with the books.  All the paper filled the air with the smell of mildew and old ink and they seemed to absorb noises, making the place quiet as a vacuum.  Standing before the shelves, the titles blurred before his eyes.  

_ An Introduction to Memory.  Altered States and How to Identify Them. Fantasies and Nightmares.  A Brief Summary of Cognition _ .  Could one of these books hold the key to unlocking Flynn’s secrets?  With a sigh, Yuri grabbed a handful of books and decided the best way to do this was to plunge in.  He carried the books back to a table, grabbed one at random, and flipped it open.  The text was very small and just skimming over the introduction told him it used a lot of words he’d never heard before.  What the hell was ‘metacognition’?  This was going to be a long day.  

* * *

 

Yuri’s stomach growled.  How long had he been here?  It must be past lunchtime at the earliest.   The rumbling in his stomach distracted him and made him realize he’d been reading the same line over and over again.  He yawned and slammed the cover shut.  This one was useless anyway.  Abandoned books lay strewn across his table like the fallen on a battlefield and he had a piece of paper covered in scratched notes of stuff that might be important that where then scribbled out for being useless.  

He had a headache.  Training in the knight academy had been less draining than this.  Sure his muscles hurt after a long day of drills, but at least his mind was clear.  He’d never spent so much time just…  _ thinking  _ and it was making his brain hurt.  The books were dry and tedious and after an hour of struggling to understand, he’d gone to the front desk and asked for a dictionary from the friendly librarian, just so he could look up vocabulary.  Then there was the background frustration of knowing that Estelle would have breezed through twice as many books in the same time, while for him reading was a chore. How did she do this for  _ fun _ ?  

It would all be worth it if he had anything to show for his effort, but he’d learned nothing helpful.  Personality changes apparently arose from major life events or trauma, puberty, or mental illness.  He could rule out major events or trauma and Flynn was far past puberty.  He’d considered a mental illness and spent at least an hour scouring through a book listing different types, but he couldn’t find anything that’s sole symptom was ‘patient suddenly turns into an unrepentant asshole’.

Yuri’s forehead came down on the book.  He now knew more than he ever wanted to know about psychology, and nothing about what was wrong with Flynn.  Part of him wondered if the library had been a mistake, while the other considered all the thousands of books around him and felt frustrated knowing that one of them must have the answer, if only he could find it.  While he slumped over the desk, someone behind him cleared their throat.  

Yuri sat up and looked over his shoulder to see a man standing by a bookshelf, watching him.  As Yuri looked, the man approached.  “Excuse me.”  His  face was pleasant but there was a darkness behind his eyes.  “You’re… Yuri Lowell, correct?”

“Who’s asking?”  He glanced up and down at the man, wondering why someone who was clearly a noble knew his name and why he was here.

“Forgive me. An associate of mine mentioned seeing you at the library this morning.  You’re not entirely unknown as the friend of the princess and the commandant… plus you were in the paper the other day after that awful murder.  I just wanted to take a minute of your time to speak to you.”

“Ok… you still haven’t answered my question, though.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”  He hurried forward and stuck out his hand.  “My name is James Avondale.  I believe you met my wife?”

That explained the darkness, which Yuri now recognized as grief.  He shook the man’s hand, but not enthusiastically.  While Yuri would give him a certain amount of respect owing to the fact that his wife had just been murdered, Yuri couldn’t forget why Flynn had closed down his prison in the first place. “What do you want?”

James slid into the seat on the other side of the table.  He looked for a place to rest his arms, but the whole surface was swamped in books so he folded his hands in his lap instead.  “I can see you’re busy, so I’ll keep this brief.  What I really wanted to ask you about was Lenore.  I’ve been trying to get answers from the Knights for days, but they just tell me they’re working on it and they don’t know anything new.  You’re friends with the commandant, right?  I don’t suppose he’s told you anything?”

Yuri shook his head.  “Nope, sorry.  Flynn and I haven’t really… exchanged much information recently.”

“Ah… I see….  Do you know, then, why the Knights have accused me of lying about Lenore’s whereabouts the night of her….”  His adam’s apple bobbed.  “Her death?”

Yuri frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“They asked me where she went the night she… that night.  I said that she told me the commandant had asked her to dinner and she was going to meet with him and arrange a deal to re-open the prison.  So, I kissed her goodbye and she left.”  He looked to his folded hands.  “She didn’t come home.”

“And the Knights’ say you’re lying?”

James lifted his face and nodded.  “They say the commandant did no such thing.  I don’t understand.  Why would the commandant lie about asking to meet with her?  I’m being accused of lying about where she went, and they say that fact that I won’t tell the truth sounds suspicious!”  He glanced around to make sure he hadn’t bothered anyone with the raising of his voice.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just distressed by why the commandant would be doing this.  At least now they’ve stopped asking me about what she was doing earlier that night… apparently the commandant told them not to pursue that course of investigation.  I’m very confused.  Why is the commandant interfering in the investigation?”  His face turned hopefully.  “Do you think Flynn already has an idea of who the killer is?”

He would, if it was himself.  Yuri hesitated over what to say.  Now was probably not a good time to start accusing Flynn of murder to the general public - at least not until he knew what was going on.  “I’m… not sure.”

“You don’t know anything?  Does Flynn at least have any suspects, you think?  Perhaps he’s already narrowed it down and he wants to build a case against the bastard in secret?”

Yuri sighed.  “I’m sorry, I really don’t know.”  He couldn’t tell a grieving widower that his wife’s killer was the one leading the investigation and purposefully hushing things up.  

James hung his head.  “I understand.  Thank you for at least talking to me.”

After James left, Yuri stared at the leather bound cover of the nearest book.  So, Lenore had gone out to meet Flynn, and then never come back.  Flynn claimed they’d met at a restaurant and then she went home, but he refused to divulge the name of the restaurant and now he was denying meeting her altogether.  He supposed it was possible that Flynn was telling the truth and just didn’t want to be involved in the case as the last person to see her alive.  Announcing to the court that their final conversation had been about whether or not she would accuse him of raping her would turn into a mess and surely someone would find a way to use it against Flynn.  And it was possible that a completely unrelated person had attacked her on the walk home and murdered her.  Yuri briefly thought of the Butcher, but he preyed in the lower quarter and didn’t kill by strangling - which meant the killer would have to be a second deranged murderer stalking the streets at night.  Possible?  Sure… but unlikely.  Every piece of evidence pointed to Flynn, but unless Yuri could find something concrete to prove Flynn wasn’t in his right mind, it was his word against the commandant’s.

Yuri punched a book, which felt good for about a second before the ache set into his knuckles.  Books were getting him nowhere, and Mr. Avondale was never going to get justice for his wife unless Yuri found something concrete.  Even if he couldn’t find a scientific theory for why someone would suddenly turn callous and power-mad, maybe he could at least find evidence that Flynn was lying to the Knights about not meeting Lenore.  Then they would have to investigate him, commandant or no.  He wasn’t sure what kind of evidence he might find, but Flynn was meticulously organized.  He might have some personal record of the meeting hidden away in a desk drawer.  In that case, it would either be in his office in the castle, or in his study at his house.  

Yuri rose from the table in determination.  Flynn was currently in his office at the castle, so he’d start with Flynn’s house. 

* * *

 

Flynn was still at work.  Yuri stood in the narrow alley between Flynn’s house and his neighbour’s, surveying the second story window.  If you didn’t know how to break into your best friend’s house, were you really best friends?  This would take bit of effort, though.  At least this morning’s rain had stopped. Yuri braced himself and started the climb, pressing one foot against Flynn’s brick wall and the other against his neighbour’s.  The buildings were just close enough that, though it was hell on his leg muscles, he could shimmy his way between the buildings and to the study window, which Flynn always kept unlocked.  

With his legs trembling from the exertion, Yuri reached the window and grabbed the sill.  The pane didn’t move.  When did he start locking this!?  His chest leadened, mostly with the sudden prospect of how much harder it was going to be to climb down with his legs already begging to stop supporting his weight.  Shit, he did not want to drop two storeys onto the wet concrete.  Desperate, Yuri ripped off the sash around his waist, bundled it around his fist, and smashed it through the window.  

“Sorry about the glass,” he muttered as he reached inside for the latch.  “Payback for being an ass.”  He flipped the latch and slid the window up.  With a heave, Yuri threw himself at the opening and tumbled onto the hardwood floor with a loud thump. 

“Man, I am not a good cat burglar.”  Seemingly in reply to his thumping entry, Flynn’s piece of crap furnace decided to clank a few times as well.  He really needed to get that fixed, although given the current state of their relationship, Yuri enjoyed thinking of it waking him up in the middle of the night.  

He’d reached his goal, though.  He was in Flynn’s study, the room Yuri always berated him for having because what was the point of coming home from work if you were going to keep working when you got there?  It worked out well, though, because he was hoping Flynn would hide more secretive records in his home office rather than the one in the castle.  He’d snoop around in here, hopefully find something incriminating, and slip out the front door.  Now that he’d broken the window and left an obvious sign someone had broken in, he’d steal some gald and an expensive teapot or something to make it look like a burglary.  

There was a filing cabinet against the wall, so Yuri got to work.  After researching in the library all morning, his mind protested another search through words.  Why did Flynn keep records of tax payments from two years ago?  The search was tedious and stressful.   His head hurt from this morning, his stomach was still grumbling with hunger (though he’d learned ages ago to ignore that), and he’d nicked his knee on a piece of glass while entering.  It didn’t help that the furnace never let him research in peace.   _ Clank-clank-clank _ it went for the fourth time, setting his teeth on edge. 

Nothing in the first drawer.  Nothing in the second.  Dammit, there had to be something!  This entire day couldn’t be a bust.

_ Clank-clank-clank. _

Good, he’d almost thought it had shut up.  He’d hate to be left alone in peace.

_ Clank-clank. _

_ Clank. _

A long breath let out his irritation.

_ Clank-clank. _

_ Clank-clank-clank. _

_ Clank-clank. _

Yuri’s hand froze on the way to the next drawer.  It was going to be a single clank, next.

_ Clank. _

Yes, and then two.  The furnace responded as expected.  Followed by, as anticipated, three.  Yuri stood and looked at the floor.  A random pattern?  Experimentally, he jumped.  Four times he thudded down on the floor.  He waited with bated breath, and then:

_ Clank-clank-clank-clank _ .

Four clanks in response to four thuds.  Yuri turned his back on the cabinets and hurried down the stairs.  The furnace didn’t make any more noise as he thudded down the steps.  On the first floor, he ran to the basement door and flung it open.  Light spilled down the stairs, but not enough to see past the bottom step.  Not sure what he was going to find, Yuri descended the stairs.  

As he neared the bottom, shapes in the darkness began to take form.  Across from him was the furnace, softly glowing and giving the room a little more light.  Nearby was the water heater, a big metal cylinder.  A thick pipe jutted out from it and then embedded itself in the floor.  At the foot of the stairs, Yuri froze.  There was a shape on the ground next to that pipe.  As his eyes adjusted to the furnace’s dim glow, every worry he’d had about Flynn’s behaviour vanished in an instant, only to be replaced by a dozen more questions and concerns.  Sitting on the ground, with his hands cuffed to the pipe, a gag in his mouth and hope in his eyes, was Flynn.  

  
  



	7. Captive

“Flynn.”  Yuri left the whispered word behind by the steps in his haste to rush across the basement.  He fell to his knees, barely noticing the sting from the cut.  Flynn had his back against the vertical segment of pipe with his hands cuffed around it.  His ankles and knees were also lashed together with rope, forcing him to sit with them folded to the side.  When Yuri reached him, his hands moved on their own to run through his hair and land on his shoulders, squeezing to test if he was real.  

“I knew that wasn’t you.”  

“Mm. Hrm hm?”

“Right, sorry.”  Yuri grabbed the bandana tied around Flynn’s head and pulled it down to his neck.  Flynn coughed and spat out a cloth that had been shoved in his mouth.  He took a few heavy pants while Yuri inspected his face, noting with anger the bruises and swelling.  

“I was wondering when you would show up.”  His voice was hoarse, but unmistakably Flynn.  

Yuri’s hands were still on Flynn’s shoulders.  He couldn’t stop touching him, feeling his warmth and reassuring realness.  He was so confused about who the other person was, but he was one-hundred-percent ready to believe this was the real Flynn and the man he’d been talking to was an elaborate impostor.  “What the hell happened? How long have you been here?”

Flynn looked at him with bloodshot eyes.  He took a deep breath and leaned his head against the pipe.  “I’m not sure.  A couple weeks, I think.”

“Give me the full story.”

“Well… it was in the evening, getting fairly late.  I was about ready to go to bed when someone knocked on my door.  I answered it, and it was… um… me.”  Flynn’s brow creased.  “He looked just like me, anyway.  I was so shocked, he got the drop on me in a fight.  He dragged me down here and tied me up.  I take it he’s been going to work in my place?”

Yuri nodded.

“Thought so.  He spent a while interrogating me about things from my life. Most of these injuries are from him not being satisfied with my answers.”  

Yuri winced in sympathy.  The more his eyes adjusted to the low light, the more beat-up Flynn appeared.  Without thinking, Yuri licked his thumb and then wiped away a smear of blood on Flynn’s chin.  “He knows you eerily well.  How’d he get the story about that scar on your ass?”

First Flynn had to get through his standard refutation of, “It’s not on my ass, it’s on my upper thigh.  And anyway, I didn’t.”  Flynn frowned in confusion.  “That’s the weird thing.  He only asks about stuff from my teen years - never childhood.  I figured he didn’t think it would be relevant, but then there’s stuff like this.  How did he know about that?  He taunted me about…”  Flynn looked away sheepishly.  “He caught me having a nightmare, then taunted me about whether it featured a Mr. Muffins.”

“Uh… who?”

“It was a nasty old cat from before I knew you.  It belonged to our neighbours and it looked like something that had died and crawled out of the grave.  It always hissed at me and when I was three, it scratched me.  That cat terrified me when I was a toddler and sometimes it turned into a monster in my nightmares.”

Yuri filed this little tidbit away to tease Flynn about in a less dire circumstance.  “And he knew about it?  Who else have you told about that cat?”

“No one!  The only people who ever knew that I was afraid of it were my parents and the old lady who owned him, who died when I was five.  That awful cat used to show up in my nightmares all the time when I was little, but I’ve never told anyone about it.”

Yuri believed that, since even he hadn’t known about Flynn being preyed on by a mangy old cat.  “Then… how the hell did he find out?”

Flynn shook his head.  “I don’t know.  He looks exactly like me, he sounds like me, he moves like me, he knows things that only I could know… it’s like he is me, except different.”

Yuri had been so happy to learn that Flynn hadn’t gone to the dark side, but now all the other questions were creeping in.  If the other person wasn’t Flynn, who was he?  A simple impostor didn’t make sense, given the intimate knowledge he had of Flynn’s past.  “You said he has to ask about later life stuff, right?  What’s the earliest age he asks about?”

“About… thirteen.  Actually, it’s really weird.  The very first thing he asked me about after dragging me down here was some evening back when we were kids.”

“Which evening?”

“I’m not sure exactly when it happened.  I only remember it because you fell in the river that night and I made fun of you for days.  Remember?  That time you worked so hard to get a ‘treasure’ out of the river and it was a single gald coin?”

The image of a single gald sitting on Flynn’s kitchen table crossed Yuri’s mind.  Yes, he vaguely remembered that night.  “Why in the world does he want to know about that?”

“No idea.  He demanded I tell him everything that happened that night, from us deciding to go down to the river to getting back to the Comet.”

“But nothing happened that night.”

“I know.  I don’t get it either.  When I ask who he is, he always says, ‘I’m you’, or some variation of that.  I don’t understand and I don’t like it.”

“No kidding.” 

“I almost got away once, actually.”  Flynn smiled a little, but with how swollen and bruised his face was, it looked more like a grimace.  “It was rope around my wrists originally.  About a week ago, I managed to saw through them with a screw on the pipe and I almost made it out.”  His smile faded.  “Not quite, though.  I’m afraid I’m not really up to a fist fight with someone in armour.  I got a few blows in, though.  That felt good.”

“I’m not surprised.  Anyone would have a hard time keeping you locked up.”  Yuri stroked Flynn’s hair again and then leaned forward to rest his lips on Flynn’s hairline.  He’d never been so relieved to have Flynn with him, real and whole and himself, even if a bit rough around the edges.  It was just a simple show of affection, to hold him close and give him some form of comfort after being chained up in a basement for several weeks, but Yuri couldn’t stop the sneaky little voice saying,  _ imagine if you moved your lips lower and kissed him on the lips. What would that be like _ ?

Yuri abruptly pulled away.  “I’ll get you out of here.  We’ll go to the castle and announce what’s been going on.  The other guy will have no choice but to give himself up or leave town, because once everyone knows there’s a fake Flynn running around, no one will listen to him.”  

He moved to Flynn’s side and Flynn twisted so Yuri could get a good look at the cuffs.  Anger flared through him at the sight of rough, bloody skin; it was too easy to imagine Flynn chafing his skin in an attempt to break free.  The trouble was that if Flynn hadn’t had any luck freeing himself with his bare hands, neither would Yuri.  The ropes around Flynn’s legs would be easier to untie, but Yuri wasn’t sure what he could do about the solid steel shackles.  They looked like the kind of cuffs knights used, and Yuri had enough experience in those to know they couldn’t be opened without a key. 

“Damn.  I’m going to need the key for these, or else a saw and a lot of time.”

“As much as I trust you, I’m hesitant about you wielding a saw so close to my wrists.  But never mind, there’s a key upstairs.”

“You think?”  He circled back to look at Flynn’s face.  “Wouldn’t the bastard keep it on him?”

Flynn nodded.  “Probably, but these are Knight-issued cuffs.  Every pair opens with the same key.  I happen to have one of those keys in my junk drawer in the kitchen. It’s the first one on the left.”

“Perfect.  I’ll grab it and get you out of here.”  He squeezed Flynn’s shoulder and then dashed up the stairs.  The door to the basement was left open as Yuri crossed the kitchen and began rummaging through the junk drawer.  He pushed aside scissors, pencils, balls of twine, spatulas, and so much more.  There was even a spare pair of handcuffs, and Yuri reminded himself to give Flynn a lecture about taking his work home with him.  Why was Flynn saving all this crap?  He could just imagine Flynn carefully emptying his pockets and putting anything he might need later in this drawer.  That was Flynn, always prepared for any situation.  Except this one.  How could he have, though?  Who would ever suspect that a person looking like your identical twin would show up at your door and tie you up in the basement?  Yuri couldn’t blame him for losing that fight.

His eyes landed on a small silver key on the bottom of the drawer.  Yuri recognized it instantly from his own numerous experiences with Knight handcuffs.  Perhaps after freeing Flynn he could keep this key just in case….  

He slammed the drawer shut a second before the front door swung open.  Yuri went rigid as footsteps entered the house.  He heard a distinctly-Flynn yawn and silently thanked real-Flynn for putting his junk drawer out of view of the front door.  It gave him an extra few seconds to think of a plan.

Then Flynn spoke, softly and to himself, “Now… why are you open?”

Yuri glanced to the kitchen doorway and kicked himself for leaving the basement door open.  He also kicked himself for not bringing his sword, but he hadn’t thought he’d need it in the library.  A knife block sat on the counter, which was his best bet at defending himself.  Yuri snatched a gleaming knife from the block and then quietly backed to the wall next to the doorway.  Around the corner was a straight hallway leading right to the front door and the impostor.  Yuri held the knife to his chest, preparing to make a move.  

Flynn stood at the top of the stairs to the basement, hand on the doorknob.  “Are you still down there?” he called.  Yuri hated hearing his voice, so painfully identical to Flynn’s.  

There was no response and he moved onto the first step.  Yuri saw an opportunity and lunged, intending to shove Flynn down the stairs.  Flynn saw the movement from the corner of his eye and spun around, sword flashing as he drew it.  Yuri threw himself to the side seconds before it sliced through his stomach and crashed into the door, which banged against the wall as it was forced all the way open.  Yuri wasted no time in making another attack, aiming for Flynn’s throat with the knife.  He had to twist at the last second to avoid an attack in response, but succeeded in leaving a long gash across Flynn’s cheek.  

 Flynn’s sword responded in a flash and this time Yuri didn’t pull his arm back fast enough to avoid the blade sinking into flesh.  The kitchen knife fell from Yuri’s hand and clattered down the stairs.  A second later, the tip of the sword poked his neck and Yuri raised his chin to give himself some breathing room.

Flynn turned to face him, blood dripping from his face to his neck.  “I should have known you couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

“Sure I can.”  His eyes darted to the sword threatening to give him a very close shave and then back to Flynn’s eyes.  The sword was less alarming, because Yuri had looked into those eyes for years and to see this much hatred coming back at him was unnerving.  “I’ll let you know when this situation is well enough, though.” He clutched his left arm, though his hand wasn’t long enough to completely cover the gash that ran from wrist to elbow on the outer edge of his arm.  His own blood on the sword was so close to his nose he could smell it.  “Well? If you’re going to kill me, get on with it.”  

“Put your hands on your head and turn around.”

“You didn’t say ‘Simon says’.”

The sword pressed a little closer and grazed the skin on Yuri’s throat.  “Put your hands on your head or I’ll put your head on the floor.”

Yuri scowled.  “Fine, but you’re not playing right.”  Blood ran freely down his arm when he pulled his hand away and placed them both on his hand, blood from his hand sticking to his hair.  

“Now turn around and walk into the kitchen.”

Yuri did as he was told, because the sword was highly persuasive.  With the sword at his back, Yuri returned to the kitchen.  There was a back door here, and if he could reach it before Flynn stabbed him, he could climb over the garden wall and make it to the street and….  But he’d never get to it before Flynn cut him down.  

Flynn stopped next to the still open junk drawer and Yuri wasn’t surprised to see him grab the handcuffs sitting beneath a sword-sharpening stone.  “Yuri Lowell,” Flynn said as he tugged Yuri’s arms down and snapped the cuffs on his wrists.  “You’re under arrest for breaking and entering and assaulting the commandant.”

“Your Flynn impression is pretty good.  If you want to perfect it, you could try not sounding like an animated bag of dicks.”  Flynn grabbed a dish towel from the sink and pressed it against his own face.  Yuri’s arm was soaked in hot blood, but Flynn didn’t seem bothered by that as he sheathed his sword and grabbed Yuri’s bicep with his spare hand.  

“Come on, then.  I know you know your way to jail.”

* * *

 

Yuri had never been so angry to sit in a cell.  Usually, he was annoyed with himself for getting caught as much as the knights for doing their job.  In the past, he’d known he’d at least done something that warranted jail-time.  

This time, however….  No one would talk to him.  He’d demanded Sodia or Lieutenant Leblanc come speak to him as soon as Flynn handed him over to the knights at the castle but it didn’t seem like anybody was going to follow through on his request.  Why should they?  The knights were hardly going to be sympathetic to someone who had betrayed and attacked their beloved commandant.  He’d tried to explain to the doctor while he was getting his arm stitched up, but the doctor had not been interested in his story about an evil doppelgänger framing him.  Yuri regretted trying to explain to him, because he’d just annoyed the doctor and he was certain these were the sloppiest sutures he’d ever had.  He hadn’t been given very many apple gels for pain relief, either.  His arm sat in a sling, throbbing.    

It was almost three hours before anyone even visited him in his cell.  Yuri looked up when he saw someone approach and his heart leapt at the sight of Sodia.  Yuri hopped off the wooden bench and rushed to the bars.  

“Sodia.  Perfect.  You need to-”

“I can’t believe you, Yuri Lowell.”

“What? No.  This isn’t what it-”

“Actually, no, I can believe you’d do this.  It’s attacking the commandant I didn’t expect.”

“You’re not listening to me.  It wasn’t Flynn I attacked.”

Sodia snorted.  “Yes, I’ve been told you’re trying to weasel your way out of this one with a tale about evil twins or something like that.”

Yuri rammed his fist against the bars, making Sodia take a quick step back.  “If anyone would just shut up and listen to me for a minute, we could get this straightened out and rescue Flynn.  Though considering how long that bastard has had alone at home, fat chance Flynn is even still there.”

Sodia crossed her arms.  “Very well, Yuri Lowell.  Tell me your story.”

Yuri knew this would be his only chance, so he forced himself to calm down and explain slowly.  “You’re aware that Flynn has been acting abnormal lately, right?”

Sodia’s mouth twitched.  “I… have noticed he seems to be under more stress than usual, if that is what you mean.”

“I mean a hell of a lot more than that.  Look, I’ve known him since we were kids, so I noticed how weird he’s acting pretty well.  Did you know he told me maybe Alexei was right?”

Sodia’s eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch but she quickly stilled her face.  “So you claim.  No one who is not in jail has any such slander against him.”

“He said it right to my face.  Anyway, I was concerned about him so I decided to sneak into his house and see if I could find any clues. Don’t give me that look - I know that’s illegal and I’m ok with being in jail for breaking in.  When I was in his house, I heard a clanking from the basement.  I went to investigate, and guess what I found?”

Sodia seemed bored.  “I can’t begin to imagine.”

“I found Flynn.”  When she didn’t react, he continued, “The real Flynn, gagged and handcuffed to a pipe in the basement.  He said he’d been down there for weeks after a strange impostor showed up at his door and attacked him.  He doesn’t know what’s going on either, but you have to take a squad of knights to Flynn’s house right now and get him out.  He’s injured and he needs help.”

She stared at him for a few seconds and then shook her head.  “That’s certainly an entertaining story.  Do you want to hear mine?”

His fingers curled around the bars.  “It’s not a story.  Flynn needs help!”

“Commandant Flynn told you that Lenore Avondale had threatened him.”

“What?” How did Sodia know about that?  And what did that have to do with anything?”

“He told you he would work it out peacefully on his own, but that’s never good enough for you, is it?  So you decided to take care of the problem yourself.  So you could ‘help’ him.  You snuck out at night and murdered a defenceless woman to try to help the commandant.”

“ _ What _ ?  No. I had nothing to do with Lenore’s murder.  Flynn’s the one who killed her!”

“Flynn?” she scoffed.  “You’d need a good deal of evidence to convince anyone of that.”

“I did break into Flynn’s house, and I did cut his face, but I had zero to do with Lenore’s death.”

“The knights are currently putting together the case to officially charge you with it.”  She couldn’t hide the trice of a smug smile.

“Well, don’t you look happy about this.”

“It is satisfying.”  She dropped her arms and glanced down the hall, then back to Yuri.  “I always knew you were a rotten egg, Yuri Lowell.  I warned the commandant, but he didn’t listen.  After I tried to-” her voice lowered and she glanced down the hall again, “after what happened at Zaude, I thought I had been mistaken.  But I see now that I had been right all along.  You are a murder, and finally Flynn sees this as well.”

Yuri glared through the bars at her, but he knew he’d never convince her.  Sodia was too enamoured with the idea that she’d been in the right all along and could therefore stop feeling guilt for her actions at Zaude.  He would not be getting any help from her.  His hand slipped from the bars.  “Look.  Just… just take a squad of knights to Flynn’s house.  Search the basement.  If there’s nothing there, you have nothing to lose.  If Flynn has nothing to hide, he won’t be offended at you checking out a lead, just to be thorough.”

She breathed out heavily through her nose.  “Fine.  I’ll search his house.  I hope you enjoy rotting down here.”  She marched away from the cell and Yuri drifted back to his bed.

Yuri sat heavily on the wooden platform and absently massaged his sore arm.  He’d been in jail multiple times before, but never for anything more serious than disturbing the peace or roughing up a knight.  Now Flynn had gone and tried to pin a murder on him, though, and this did not bode well.  The punishment for murder involved a quick drop and a sudden stop, and the castle prison had never felt so claustrophobic.  

Estelle would never allow this to happen.  She had pardoned them once before, hadn’t she?  Was her power enough to pardon a murder?  Assuming, of course, that she even knew he needed help.  He was kicking himself now for telling his friends to stay in Dahngrest.  None of his friends had any clue he’d been arrested and he doubted he’d be allowed to send letters.  

This was ridiculous.  After all the shit he’d done, he was going to get charged for a murder he  _ hadn’t  _ committed.  No way was he going to let that happen.  Sodia was acting like it was a done deal, but there would still be a trial.  A reform of the court system had been one of Flynn’s first acts as commandant. If the commandant’s best friend went on trial for murder, that news would spread across the Empire and Estelle would rush to Zaphias to sort it out.  At the very least, Judy and Karol would come to confirm that he’d been in his room at the Comet with them the evening Lenore was killed.  It would work out.  

* * *

 

There was nothing to do in jail beyond marvel at the artistic prowess of whoever had tried to draw elements of anatomy on the wall by the bed, so Yuri took a nap.  He drifted through dreams that alternated between miraculous rescues of Flynn and dancing doughnuts.  

It was a voice that woke him up.  “Get up.”

Yuri awoke quickly and saw Flynn standing on the other side of the bars.  For a second, his brain got confused with his dream and he thought this was the real Flynn, rescued from the basement and here to let him out.  Then he processed that bandage across half his face and the cold expression and knew this was nothing but the impostor.  Yuri rose from the bed slowly, not about to jump on command for this asshole.  The apple gels he’d been given when he arrived had finally worn off and the slash on his arm ached.  “Are you here to lock yourself up?” he asked as he approached the bars.  “Good.”

“I have nothing to arrest myself for.”

“Holding someone captive in your basement is a good start.”

He smiled a little, but only half of his face.  Yuri hoped the other half hurt as much as his arm.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Sodia led a search of my house and turned up nothing suspicious.”

Of course.  “Where is he?”

He shrugged.  “He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re worried about.  He’s more useful to me alive, currently.  Which means you ought to put less worry into him, since I can’t say the same of you.”  Flynn - it wasn’t Flynn but Yuri couldn’t think of what else to call him - held up a paper on a clipboard and a pen.  “Now then, you confess to the murder of Lenore Avondale, correct?”

“Like hell.  I had nothing to do with that.”

“M-hm, that’s what I thought.”  Flynn scrawled something on the paper and then turned it to show Yuri a perfect replica of Flynn’s signature at the bottom of an official paper. “It’s good that you confessed and plead guilty.  It saves us the trouble of a trial.”

Yuri automatically reached through the bars to try to grab the paper, but Flynn pulled it back first.  “I’ve confessed to nothing.”

Flynn looked down at his paper and then back up.  “Oh?  But right here it says you confessed to the crime to the commandant himself, and it’s got the commandant’s signature to verify.  All that’s left now is for a judge to decide the punishment, which - considering you killed a well-respected noble woman - is certainly going to be hanging.  I suppose that could be overthrown if the judge has reason to believe I’m lying… but everyone knows you’re my best friend, so why would anyone suspect that?”

“They might suspect when I loudly tell anyone in earshot that I never plead guilty to anything.”

Flynn shrugged.  “A lot of people suddenly recant confessions when they see the noose.  Nothing unusual there.”

“So that’s your plan, is it?” Yuri folded his arms, putting pressure on his wound.  “Have me hanged for a crime you committed.”

Flynn glared at him and then shook his head with a frown.  “I should have realized as soon as you accused me that you could never be my Yuri.  Yuri would never turn on me like that.  He’d never break into my house and try to jump me, or try to turn my own knights against me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?  You’re not even Flynn.”

“I am Flynn.  Rather, I’m the… new and improved version.”

“You want to explain that plainly?” 

“I suppose you could think of me as another option - what the man you know might have been if things had gone slightly differently.  I never intended to come to this world, but now that I’m here, I think I rather like it.”

“An evil clone from an alternate timeline, huh? Well.  I can’t exactly say I was expecting that.”  Part of him wanted to call bullshit, but he’d seen too much to call it impossible.  If a giant cataclysm of aer could rip through the fabric of the universe, why couldn’t there be parallel worlds?  It certainly explained this guy’s uncanny knowledge of Flynn.  “So, let’s see.  You’re Flynn but from a different timeline.  My Flynn says you’re intimately familiar with his childhood, but keep asking about teenage years.  So, I guess our universes deviated around then?”

“Good, at least you’re not an idiot.”

“And let me guess: it doesn’t matter if you tell me your whole cunning plan because you’re going to kill me anyway?”

Flynn shrugged.  “I don’t have a cunning plan.  I’m not a storybook villain out to take over the world.  I’m just running the Knighthood as I see fit.  I wasn’t planning to kill you, but now that you’ve gone snooping, you’re a loose-end I have to take care of.”

“You know, I hope the timeline you come from has a Yuri and I hope that version of me punched you in the face a few times.”

Flynn met his gaze, his face stiff.  “There was a Yuri,” he said quietly.  “And you make for a pathetic replacement.”

Yuri glared at his back as Flynn left, then returned to the bed and slumped down.  He gripped his arm through the sling and wondered if the doctor who had stitched him up thought he had wasted his time, considering Yuri was going to die soon anyway.  He had no doubt the verdict on his case would come back with the death sentence.  Not only had he allegedly killed Lenore, he’d also assaulted the commandant and left a visible injury on him, plus a long history of run-ins with the Knights in the past.  The judicial system was not on good terms with him.  The real question was whether the judge would set the date for a few weeks away in order to let him stew, in which case there might be time for Estelle or Ioder to find out what was happening and rush back to Zaphias to sort it out, or set it right away and get it over with.  If that happened… well, his best bet was to lose a lot of weight real fast and slip out through the bars.  

Yuri let out a breath, pulled his legs up, and laid back.  The weight of his arm in the sling was making his neck hurt and it was a relief to rest it on his chest.  Sooner or later, though, his neck was going to hurt an awful lot more.  He glowered at the ceiling and considered confessing to the murders of Ragou and Cumore.  After all, if he was going to be executed for murder, he’d at least like it to be for something he actually did.  

 


	8. A Fork in Time

“Man, it’s freezing.” Yuri knelt on the side of the river, shivering.  Water dripped down his young face as he hugged himself.

Flynn wasn’t feeling too sorry for him, considering it was his own fault he’d fallen in the river trying to recover what turned out to be a worthless coin.  “It is not.  It’s a perfectly nice evening.”

“Fine for you, but I’m soaking wet.”

“And whose fault is that?”  At thirteen years old, he’d hoped Yuri would start maturing soon.

Yuri threw himself at Flynn.  “Warm me up.” He pressed against a struggling Flynn as his wet hair dampened Flynn’s shirt.

“Ah - Yuri - dammit!” Flynn finally managed to wriggle free and then Yuri sat back, laughing.  He wiped moisture from his cheek with a scowl.  “Thanks for nothing.”

Yuri grinned at him and then jumped to his feet.  “Brr.  Let’s head back home.”

“No.  It’s still a perfectly nice night and you wouldn’t be cold if you hadn’t been stupid.”  Flynn had been at the Comet all day and he wasn’t keen on spending his relaxing time there, too.  

“Aw, c’mon.  I’m cold and I want to take a shower before the stench of river gets embedded in my hair.”

Flynn crossed his arms.  The innkeeper had warned them not to stay out too late and to stay together, but it was the same warning Flynn’s mom gave them when they were little.  Frankly, he felt he and Yuri were old enough to be alone at night, whether adults recognized their age or not.  “I won’t stop you from going back, but I’m staying out here.  I’m not having my evening ruined by your stupidity again.”

Yuri leaned down and grabbed Flynn’s arm.  “Come ooooon, there’s nothing to do back home without you.  Let’s go back to our room and play cards.”

Flynn half-heartedly tried to pull his arm back as Yuri tugged on it.  “We did that all winter.  Now that the weather’s nice, I’d rather stay outside and enjoy it.”

“C’mon, Flynn.  Please?”

Flynn stared back at his pleading eyes.  His pale face was framed by wet, bedraggled hair that made him look like a wet dog.  Half of Flynn stubbornly wanted to sit down here by the river and enjoy the quiet night without his idiot friend causing a ruckus.  The other half (the half that was partly fuelled, he was sure, by the way his stomach did weird fluttery things when he looked at Yuri lately, though he hadn’t worked out exactly why that was) wanted to join him back at the Comet.  The two desires warred until finally Flynn heaved a sigh and said, “You go on by yourself.  I’m going to stay here for a little longer.”

And just like that, the world changed.

“Fine, be that way.”  Yuri dropped Flynn’s arm.  “I’ll go have fun without you, then.”

“Enjoy yourself.”  Flynn leaned against a pillar and folded his arms.  “It’ll be a lot more peaceful down here without you.

Yuri reached into his pocket and pulled out the gald coin he’d found.  “Here, you have this.”

“What for?” He looked at the little coin in his hand and tried to imagine what he could possibly buy with it.

“Good luck! Hanks said we should be careful outside at night, you know.”

“Heh. Sure, Yuri.”  He closed his fist around the coin.  “I‘ll see you later.”

“So long!” Yuri waved and jogged toward the bridge.

Flynn smiled as he watched him go. Yuri always seemed to be in a rush to get places, or maybe he was just so brimming with energy he let it out whenever he could.  

He slowed down on the other side of the bridge, but only because he nearly crashed into a man walking along the river.  Flynn watched him stumble away and heard a babbled apology, muffled by distance.  

Yuri trailed behind the man as they were both going the same direction.  Flynn closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the cool breeze sweeping through the street.  It wasn’t warm enough to forget how recently it had been winter, but he liked it nevertheless.  Sometimes it was nice to just sit quietly and enjoy the world, something Yuri never seemed to grasp in his constant need to run around and do things.  

When he opened his eyes again, Yuri and the man were both gone.  Flynn assumed they’d walked behind the building across from him, because there was no way he’d closed his eyes long enough for them to continue down the street, up the stairs to the busier street, and disappear completely.  He waited for Yuri to emerge on the other side, which he assumed wouldn’t take long due to his habit of running everywhere.  

Time trickled by.  Water lapped the river bank and Flynn watched the street.  What was the hold up? After another minute passed, Flynn frowned and wondered if he had closed his eyes longer than he thought.  

“This is dumb,” he muttered to himself as he stood up.  Obviously he’d just missed them leaving and walking up the stairs, but he couldn’t shake the uncertainty.  He had a bad feeling in his gut, so he’d go on ahead to the Comet and make sure Yuri made it home ok.

On the other side of the bridge, Flynn heard a soft whine.  He could barely see anything in the shadow behind the building, but he thought he spotted a slight movement.  Flynn approached slowly, staying close to the ten foot wall that led up to the main street.  When he got closer to the building that had blocked his view from the other side of the river, Flynn stopped.  His chest felt tight and his knees locked as his feet refused to take him into the shadows.  More noises came to his ears: a squelch and a muffled moan.  

“Yuri?” Flynn’s voice was soft, nervous.  

The movement froze and then the dim light caught the gleam of someone’s eyes as they turned to look at him.  They were much taller than Yuri, but the other shape, the smaller one, slumped against the wall and barely moving, was….

The man strode toward Flynn and the small shape collapsed to the ground.  Flynn stumbled backward but his eyes were locked on the figure stalking toward him, draped in shadows and - and there was a knife in his hand - the street smelled like blood -

He started screaming.  There were no clear words, just an outpouring of panic and terror.  The man was almost upon him and Flynn was too paralyzed to do anything but stare at the knife rising in his hand, a hand that was coated in blood like a glove.  

With a shout and a clank, someone else leapt down from the street above.  The man with the knife turned, but not before an armoured body tackled him to the ground and began shouting.  “Here!  Over here!  I need backup!”

Flynn was on the ground (he didn’t even remember falling), trembling like a leaf.  He’d replaced screaming with gasping for air.  The man with the knife struggled, but the knight had him pinned to the ground and was wrestling his arms behind his back to lock them in cuffs.  Armoured footsteps clanked as more knights ran down the stairs further up the road.  More knights ran through the shadowed section and then helped the first one subdue the man with the knife.  A few others had stopped next to the small shape slumped on the ground.

“Got ‘im,” a knight said, standing and pulling the man to his feet.  He turned to the ones in the shadows and said, “Is it him?”

One of the other knights turned his gaze to the shape on the ground.  “Ugh. It’s the Butcher, all right.  Damn.  It’s another kid.”

“Son of a bitch,” the knight who had first jumped down muttered.  He was young, with a thin moustache.  Then he took a few steps toward Flynn and crouched in front of him.  “Are you alright?”

Flynn stared into his kind eyes, but all he could do was pant for breath for a few seconds.  Then he said, “Y-Yuri.  Yuri. Is - is he-?”

“What you got over there, Private?” someone called.

The knight with the moustache twisted around.  “It’s a witness, Lieutenant!  A kid.”

“A witness?  Excellent.  Bring him along, then.”

The knight held out his hand.  “What’s your name?”

“Yuri,” Flynn gasped.

“Hi, Yuri, my I’m Leblanc..”

Flynn was barely looking at him.  “N-no, I’m not - he’s - I’m Flynn - is Yuri-?”

“Flynn? I’m going to need you to come with us for now, ok?  We just need to ask you some questions about what happened and then I’ll take you home.  Can you get up?”

Flynn nodded weakly.  His knees shook and threatened to take him down again, but he managed to get to his feet.  He finally managed to put together a proper sentence, though only if he whispered it.  “Is Yuri dead?”

The knight took his hand.  “Let’s go back to the station and you can have some cocoa.”

They walked toward the stairs, passing into the shadows where the smell of blood was strongest. The man with the knife had already been taken away, but a pair of knights were still standing by the shape on the ground.  It smelled like blood and the closer they got, the more details Flynn was able to make out: the blood all over the ground, the ropes of internal organs spread out from the split abdomen.  Flynn let his eyes wander up, to the face of the small body, and even though he’d known what he would see, it felt like someone punched his stomach.  Yuri looked so pale, his face so empty.

“Yuri!” Flynn tore away from Leblanc’s hand and ran toward the body.  Words tumbled out of him, though he didn’t pay attention.  “No, no, please, no, you can’t, stop, no, help, oh please….”  He fell to his knees and grabbed Yuri’s shoulder, shaking him as if that would change anything.  All the shaking caused was for a piece of intestine to flop toward his shoe.  Flynn struggle to breathe as sobs took over his throat and his eyes swelled with tears. 

“Come on, Flynn.”  Leblanc grabbed his waist and pulled him away.  “You don’t need to see this.”

“No… no, please….”   _ Please, make this not have happened. _

“There’s nothing you can do here.  Come on, now.”  With a gentle but insistent tug, Leblanc pulled Flynn away from the corpse of his best friend.  

He didn’t want to leave.  Somehow it felt like if he stayed here, the outcome could still change, but if he walked away, he’d be accepting that what had happened on this road was a fact that could never be changed.  He wasn’t strong enough to overcome Leblanc’s tugging him down the street, though, so he had no choice but to stumble away, half-blinded by tears.  He could hardly comprehend that less that twenty minutes ago, he and Yuri had be goofing off by the river.  And now… now… his life was irrevocably different and nothing would ever be the same.  

* * *

 

In his office, Flynn opened his eyes.  He’d spent most of his teen years trying to stop thinking about that night, but ever since he got here, it kept playing out over and over in vivid detail.  The worst part about discovering this new world was learning that he’d been right for all these years: it had been his fault.  Alexei had once told him that there was nothing he could have done - that if he’d gone with Yuri, all that would have changed was that he would have been killed, too.  After all, a single child was hardly a great deterrence to a serial killer.  

But that was wrong.  In his heart, he’d always known it had been wrong.  He’d forced the story out of that whiny fool who shared his face and learned that in this version of events, he’d agreed to  head home with Yuri.  

“But was anyone else there?” he’d demanded.  “Was there a man on the street?”  His double had struggled to breathe around his bloody nose while Flynn gripped the collar of his shirt.  Flynn had spent his first evening in Zaphias trying to pinpoint exactly where their worlds deviated, and he was certain it had been that night.  After all, no one who had lived through what Flynn had could be so gormless and naive.  “Well?!” Flynn shook him and his double’s head bounced against the pipe he was tied to.

“I - I don’t know,” the other panted.  “How should I remember… a night almost ten years ago?”

And that infuriated Flynn enough to smack him across the face with a hard clap.  To think that that night had been so unmemorable to this version of himself when to Flynn, every anniversary of the date was shrouded in grief and darkness.  “Was there anyone else there?”

“Maybe!” the other had gasped.  “I think - maybe - we bumped into someone.”

“And what did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything!”  He wheezed for breath and the ropes creaked as he struggled, as if he had any chance of escape.  “Why do you care?  What is this even about?  Who  _ are _ you?”

Flynn knew that, perhaps, it had been unnecessary to beat his double until the resemblance in their faces was obscured by blood and bruises.  How else was he supposed to react to the news that this other man had everything in life that Flynn desired due to a decision that might as well have been a coin toss?  If Flynn had gone with Yuri that night, nothing would have happened.  The Butcher would have decided he didn’t want to deal with subduing two boys at once and they would have returned to the Comet, safe and sound, with no idea how closely they had skirted death.  If Flynn had agreed to walk home, Yuri wouldn’t have been pinned to a wall and had his guts ripped out when he was just thirteen years old.  

And then he’d come here, and an adult Yuri had come striding into his office, soaking wet as if he’d just crawled out of the river.  At first, Flynn had thought this was his chance at happiness - an unprecedented opportunity to have a second chance with Yuri.  He’d really thought the hole in his heart was finally going to be filled and everything he’d dreamed about a life where Yuri never left him was going to come true.  But this version of Yuri was… not correct.  His Yuri would never have murdered people in cold blood; he was pure and innocent.  It was Flynn’s job to fix the world to make it worthy of Yuri.  Yuri would never have mistrusted him, or tried to turn his knights against him, and he especially would not have rejected him after Flynn had finally confessed to the love he’d carried since he was thirteen.  

This version of Yuri was a pale imitation who did not deserve to carry the name or wear the face of the true Yuri Lowell.  His very existence was spitting on the grave of a murdered child and Flynn would not stand for this.  If the real Yuri hadn’t been allowed to grow up, then in no universe would Flynn allow a mocking copy of him to flaunt his identity.  The Yuri of this world needed to pay for his insult to Yuri’s memory and Flynn was going to enjoy sending him to the gallows.  

Someone rapped on his door and a moment after, Sodia entered.  “Forgive me for interrupting, sir.”

“No matter.”  He smiled at her.  “Do you need something?”  He liked Sodia.  He hadn’t known her in his previous life, but he wished he had because he could use a knight with such unfailing faith in him.  Bitterly, he thought that Yuri could learn a thing or two about loyalty from her.  

“There are some forms for you to sign.”  She approached the desk and left them in a neat pile.  “And also, the Council has requested you to attend a hearing to determine Yuri Lowell’s fate.  From what I understand, guilt has already been established and the judge wants to hear your story directly before deciding the exact punishment.  It’s at 2:15 this afternoon.”

“Very good.  Thank you.”  He was pleased with how fast this had moved.  Yuri had been arrested only yesterday afternoon.  When Sodia remained at the desk, chewing on a thought, he asked, “Do you need anything else?”

“I’ve been thinking.  There are rumours that Yuri Lowell was involved in the two murders in the lower quarter recently.  Do you believe there is any truth to them?”

“No,” Flynn said flatly.  “I give no credence to those theories at all.”  It would be nice to pin those murders on Yuri to ensure he went down in a proper storm of hatred and damnation.  Flynn couldn’t risk it, though.  He knew who he was dealing with and he couldn’t risk the Butcher striking again and casting doubt on all of Yuri’s charges. 

“I see.  I didn’t think it was in character for him, either, but I wasn’t sure.  You do believe he truly killed Lenore Avondale, though?”

Flynn’s face darkened.  “Yes, I do.  It grieves me to think that poor woman was murdered because of me.  I don’t think I can ever forgive Yuri for taking that action in an attempt to help me.”

Sodia tried to smile supportively.  “At least, sir, you understand the truth now and won’t let your past history with Yuri blind you to his present actions.”

After she left, Flynn drummed his fingers on his desk and considered getting started on the papers Sodia had brought.  Being the commandant in this world involved a lot more paperwork than he was used to, but he figured it was a fair price to pay for relative stability and no eldritch horror consuming the sky and all of his resources.  It did take up a lot of time, and he still needed to work on the Butcher case on his own, because he wasn’t going to let anybody else arrest that bastard and let the hangman have the pleasure of killing him.  One of the most frustrating things was that he didn’t actually know the Butcher’s identity.  He would recognize the face in an instant, but no one had ever told him the man’s name, which made it very difficult to find him.  

He also needed to get food to that waste of space, and now that Yuri had meddled he couldn't risk keeping him at home anymore.  For a moment, he considered if it would be worth it to just kill the other Flynn to get rid of that stress, but he rejected that idea.  There were still things he didn’t know about his new universe and alleged past, and he needed the other him alive as a source of information.  For now.  

* * *

 

Yuri had thought that he was familiar with the castle jail cells before, but over the past two days, he’d formed an intimate knowledge of every tiny detail. He’d stayed up all night trying to find a way out, and grime was caked under his fingers from how much time he’d spend running them over the hinges or feeling for weaknesses in the bricks. He had to hand it to Flynn; he ran a tight ship. Yuri had only managed to escape from here once before, and he didn’t think he could count on a friendly neighbour dropping the key at his feet again. He had more motivation to escape than he ever had before, though. Getting out of jail in the past had been driven by a desire for freedom from boredom. Now, it was based on a very simple desire to not be executed. 

All the motivation in the world couldn’t magic up a portal to freedom, though. There was no window off of which he might saw the bars and wriggle to freedom, there was no grate in the floor that led to a disgusting yet usefully wide tunnel, and based on the amount of powder he’d scraped off the walls using his spoon as a chisel, digging to freedom would take at least fifty years. Though it pained him to admit defeat, it didn’t look like there was any way for him to break out of here without outside help. 

Yuri sat on the edge of his bed, massaging his sore arm.  Apparently, the Knights didn’t have a policy about giving apple gels to condemned men. Yuri supposed he could see the logic, because why waste the budget on pain relief for someone you were planning to hang later on, but it still irritated him.  At the very least a medic had come by a couple of times to change the bandages on his arm so he didn’t sit here covered in blood, making a mess in the cell they’d have to clean up.  He tried not to feel too bad about his arm, though, because he knew it wouldn’t be long before he felt a much greater pain in his neck and longed to go back to these days.   No one had updated him on the state of his case and when precisely he could expect to drop, but he assumed it was a matter of days rather than weeks.  

A door clanged as it opened and then he heard shuffling feet feet moving down the hallway toward him.  By the sound of it, a new prisoner was being brought in.

“…and that’s why I was on my way to the Knights to report it.  Wouldn’t want kids to find ‘em, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” a knight said.

“So this is all just a big misunderstanding.”

“I’m sure.”  

The pair passed Yuri’s cell and he watched a scrawny man in handcuffs being pushed along by a bored knight.  The cell next door to Yuri was opened and the man said, “No, come on, what did I even do? You can’t lock up an innocent man!”  His voice was high-pitched and whiney, as if he’d noticed the world was unfair one day and he’d never stopped complaining about it.

The knight sighed.  “Stealing from the Imperial Knights is a crime, and attempting to sell stolen equipment on the black market is another crime.”

“Ok, but, did you know that in my past one-hundred-percent-legal-I-swear business ventures, I’ve earned a substantial amount of gald?  Well, ok, most of it is… transient right now but when these ventures work out my profits will have doubled!  In fact, I’m making so much money that I could use a business partner and someone as competent and intelligent as you would be perfect! So if you just agree to forget about our little disagreement today, you could have the opportunity to become a partner with twenty-percent stock in what will soon be a major venture!”

“Twenty-percent?  You’re trying to bribe me with only twenty-percent? I’m insulted, Pherick.”  The door slammed shut and the knight walked away.  

Yuri listened to the man throw himself on the bed with a sigh.  He’d been the only prisoner down here, so a break in the silence would be nice.  Still, he would have preferred a conversation partner a little less annoying.  “So.”  Yuri leaned against the wall of his cell.  “Caught selling stolen weapons, eh?”

“I didn’t steal them,” the man protested.  “I found them.  They were in a park and I thought kids might get hurt so I picked them up and I was going to return them to the Knights.”

“You know the knights are gone now, right?  They’re not listening.”

There was a long silence.  Then: “Ok, look, the Knights have loads of swords, right?  Who’d’ve thought they’d notice just a couple going poof?”

Yuri raised his eyebrows.  “A couple.”

“Just a few!  Like five or ten… thirty-five… not that much!  And how was I supposed to know they still wanted those crates of supplies? They shouldn’t have left them sitting there if they didn’t want anyone to take them!  Who’d miss a box of gauntlets, handcuffs, and truncheons?  Just because I sold that stuff a few weeks ago doesn’t mean the swords I was carrying today were also going to be sold.”

Yuri smirked.  At least he was getting a bit of amusement before kicking the bucket.  “So how long are you in for?”

Pherick gave out another long, melodramatic sigh.  “Who knows?  It’s sure to be months.  The buyer I had lined up for that necklace I st- inherited from my great aunt - will have moved on by the time I’m free again.  This is the worst thing that could happen to me.”

Yuri stared at the wall across from himself for a very long moment.  “Yes,” he said slowly.  “It certainly is.”

“So what about you? What’d you do?”

“Oh, I’m a cold-blooded murderer.”

“W-what? For real?”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?  The Knights say I am and that’s the only thing that’s gonna affect my future.”  Or lack of one.

Pherick whistled.  “You’re going to be in here for ages.  Thanks, mate, I feel better about myself.”

“Actually, I think they’ll let me out of here in just a few days.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“So I can head to the gallows.”

“Oh.”  Pherick whistled once more.  “Sucks to be you, mate.  I still feel better about myself, though.”

“I’m so glad I could be helpful.”

A few hours later, Yuri regretting striking up a conversation.  It turned out that Pherick had never been caught before, which he insisted was because all of his entrepreneurial ventures in his past had been completely legal.  He’d never been in jail before and prattled on and on about what it would be like, how he’d expected the bed to be softer, how he hoped the food wasn’t that bad, and did it get very dark at night?  Yuri was a little annoyed with himself for being such a repository of knowledge of life in jail.  

Yuri finally got his new best friend (though it was mostly a one-sided relationship) to shut up when they heard someone coming.  Yuri rose and walked to the bars when he heard a man say, “Oh, Commandant, you don’t need to do this.  Let me.”  The voice was muffled at the end of a corridor, but in the quiet jail, he was able to make it out.  

“No, thank you.”  It was disgusting how kind and considerate this version of Flynn could sound.  “I’d like to have some minutes alone to speak with Yuri Lowell.  Perhaps you could go on break for fifteen or twenty minutes?”

“Erm… well, I’m not really supposed to leave my post, but… I suppose I can’t get in trouble if it’s for you, Commandant.”

“Don’t worry, if anyone reprimands you for it, tell them to take it up with me.”

“Thank you, sir.  I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Yuri heard a chair scrape and then a door slam.  Then there were footsteps and Flynn came into view, a tray of food in one hand and a case of green bottles under his other arm.  He set the tray on the floor in front of Yuri’s door and pushed it through the narrow slot with his foot.  

“Here you are, Yuri.  I don’t suppose you’d like a ginger beer?”  He gestured to the box under his arm.

Yuri wrinkled his nose.  “If you’d done your research properly, you’d know I hate that stuff.”  He’d never understood the appeal of drinking liquid ginger, which both burned and fizzled down his throat.  Flynn claimed it just wasn’t sugary enough for Yuri, a point which might have some merit, because if he was going to shell out the money for a drink more exciting than water, it had better either get him drunk or be overflowing with sugar. 

“Just as well; I wasn’t actually going to give you one.  Anyway, I hope you won’t turn your nose up at this like you did to my own cooking.”

Yuri eyed the brown slop in the chipped bowl.  It seemed like standard jail food - that is to say, only ‘food’ by the barest of definitions.  He picked it up and began pushing the questionable lumps around the brown ooze.  He was pretty sure they were potato, but he’d learned not to question it.  “It looks tastier than yours, at least.”

Flynn gave him a level look.  Instead of a snarky comeback, he went with, “I thought you’d like to know that your execution has been set for the day after tomorrow.”

Yuri swallowed a witty retort and put all his effort in keeping his face level.  He had to hand it to Flynn; that was one killer comeback.  “Good to know.  Thanks for keeping me informed.”

“And don’t worry.  I’m pretty sure you’ll be seeing your friend again soon enough.”

Yuri glared back at him.  He could tolerate dying, but threatening Flynn flipped a switch in his brain that sent his hand flying, hurling the bowl at the bars.  It clanged on the metal and splattered chunky slop all over Flynn’s chest.  “You’re a piece of shit.  If you think for one minute that Estelle won’t realize something’s going on the minute she gets back here, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

Flynn brushed a piece of potato from his shirt.  “Perhaps.  But by the time that happens, you’ll be dead, so you’d better leave me to worry about it.  You’re not getting a second supper, by the way.”

Flynn left his cell and Yuri kicked the two halves of his bowl out of the cell and into the hallway.  He snatched the stale bun on the tray that was now his only dinner and threw himself back on his bed.  It had been stupid to throw the stew, because his stomach was already grumbling.  He hadn’t accomplished anything but make his situation less pleasant, and he was still going to die the day after tomorrow.

He’d barely noticed that Flynn, rather than leaving the jail area, had instead gone to the cell next door.  Yuri didn’t pay attention until he heard Pherick say, “Er, yes, that’s me.  Can I, uh, help you with something, Commandant?”

The door clinked as it shut.  From the direction of the voice, Yuri assumed Flynn was now inside the cell.  

“Sit down.”

There was a thump as Pherick obeyed orders.  Then a clink and, “Ow, hey, there’s no need for that.  I’m not gonna try to attack you, am I? Do you think I’m that dumb?”

“Do you want me to answer that?”

“Ok, I’m really offended.”

“I don’t particularly care.  I need to ask you a few questions and you’re going to sit still and answer them.”

Yuri stopped trying to chew his bread and listened carefully.  He couldn’t imagine what Flynn could possibly want from a rat like Pherick.  

“Two weeks ago,” Flynn began, “you stole a crate of Imperial Knight equipment off the back of a cart.”

“I don’t know if I’d say stole, so much as redistributed-”

Yuri winced in sympathy at the sound of a slap.

“Owwww, heeey, you can’t do that.  You’re not allowed to hurt people you’ve arrested.  It’s the rules.”

“As I was saying, you stole this crate.  You then sold the contents to various buyers throughout Zaphias.”

“You can’t prove-”

“I know you did because I sent a knight to search your place of residence and she found a notebook listing all of your financial ventures.”

“Uh… well…” Yuri could almost hear his squirming.  “That was planted.”

“It was a very cute notebook.  I enjoyed your drawings of the ‘super neat horse’ you were going to buy once you acquired the capital.  The little hearts were touching.”

“That was definitely planted!”

“However, I was intrigued to find you listed how much you sold the stolen goods from the crate for - with an endearing number of exclamation marks - except for the handcuffs that I know were in here.”

“Um… I don’t know what you mean.”

“You were in possession of ten pairs of regulation Knight-issued handcuffs.  Those cuffs were not found at your house, and they were not listed in your notebook as being sold.  Who did you give them to?”

“W-well, I don’t see how it’s any business of yours what I do with my own stuff.”

“It wasn’t your own stuff; it was my stuff.  Who did you give them to?”

“Who says I gave them to anyone?”

“So you sold them, then?  But didn’t want to record the transaction, even though it would help you reach your dreams of buying a pony?”

“It’s not a pony!” Pherick wailed.  “It’s a race horse!  Why do you care so much about handcuffs, anyway?!”

Yuri was wondering that, too.  It seemed absurd for the commandant himself to come interview a petty crook about stolen equipment.  This had to relate to something else, and Yuri tried to think where handcuffs might feature in the larger picture.  His first thought was the real Flynn, handcuffed in his own basement.  That couldn’t have had anything to do with the stolen ones Pherick had gotten rid of, though.

“Do you like ginger beer?” Flynn suddenly asked and then there was a clink as a bottle was drawn from its case. 

“Eh?  It’s… ok, I guess.”

Yuri heard a rhythmic slosh as the bottle was shaken.

“Uh… hey.”  Pherick’s voice was hesitant.  “What are you doing?  Why’re you-”

There was a pop.  There was a fizz.  And there was screaming.  

Yuri bolted up, his injured arm thumping against his chest painfully.  Pherick’s initial shriek of agony had been replaced with pants and whines, but it still echoed in Yuri’s head.  He wasn’t disturbed by cries of pain, but hearing them from a prisoner in Knight custody infuriated him.

Softly, Flynn said, “Would you like me to do that again? I have more bottles.”

Pherick just whined in response.  

“Hey!” Now at the bars, Yuri tried to look see into the cell next door and banged on the door.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up, Yuri,” Flynn snapped. “Now, Pherick, do you want to tell me what happened to those handcuffs?”

Now Pherick’s voice was quiet and little more than a mumble.  “Gave ‘em away.”

“To whom?”

After a long pause: “Don’t remember.”

Flynn sighed, and then Yuri heard another bottle being shaken.  Pherick moaned in fear. 

“Hey!” Yuri shouted again, louder this time.  He was hoping to get the attention of a knight outside, both because nobody whose only crime was theft and being annoying deserved to make such an agonized shriek and because if someone caught Flynn in the act, it would give some credence to Yuri’s claims about Flynn being an evil twin.  

“It was a guy at a store,” Pherick whined.  “I - I gave them to him.”

“Who?  Which store?”

“D-don’t… don’t remember…” he whimpered. “Oh, no, please, not again, don’t-” he was cut off by another pop, fizz, and scream.  

Once his wail had turned into quiet sobs, Flynn said, “Did that clear out your head enough to remember?”

“N-no, I… why does it even matter?”

“Because there is a certain type of handcuff produced for Imperial usage that is distributed throughout our judicial system.  Handcuffs acquired through private parties would not be the same make.  So I very much would like to know to whom you sold yours to.”

Understanding clicked when Yuri remembered the way Mary’s hands had been cuffed behind her back.  Raven had said that was a trait all the Butcher’s victims shared.  They’d recovered the cuffs from Mary, because Yuri had arrived on the scene, so they must have determined the cuffs were the same kind as those used by the Knights.  That meant that whoever the Butcher was, he had access to Knight-issued equipment.  Flynn must suspect that the person Pherick had sold his ‘acquisition’ to was none other than the Butcher himself.  Yuri highly doubted Pherick had known the identity of his buyer, though; he definitely didn’t seem the type to be involved in that.  

“It was… it was just a store,” Pherick mumbled, sniffling now and then.  “I already owed the owner some money… ‘cause I hadn’t paid for past purchases yet… so I gave ‘im the cuffs as compensation.”

Flynn asked the question Yuri was thinking.  “What kind of store accepts handcuffs as payment?”

Pherick whined instead of answering, but then said, “No! Get that away from me! He - he sells handcuffs, ok?  Not usually that kind, but others.”

“A store that sells handcuffs?”

Pherick hemmed and hawed, but a renewed shaking of the bottle in Flynn’s hand encouraged the words to come out.  “It’s a - a speciality shop, ok?  He sells… things… some handcuffs, yeah, and also… kind of… whips or - or funny shaped rubber things - or gags….”

There was a clink as the bottle was set down.  “I see.”

“I - I can give you the name of the shop if you want to check for yourself.”

“Yes, I will do that.  Do you need more encouragement to remember those names?”

“No,” he mumbled.  Pherick gave the name of the store and the owner, and then Flynn thanked him and left the cell.  

“What the hell do you call that?” Yuri demanded as Flynn passed his cell, box of unused ginger beer under his arm.  A fizzy drink had never looked so ominous.  

“Interrogation,” Flynn said simply.  

“More like torture.  Since when did the Knights approve of such methods?” They didn’t, of course.  That was why Flynn had cleared the area of witnesses first.

“Don’t be over-dramatic.  There are no marks on him at all.  Inducing a mildly unpleasant experience is hardly torture.  Good day, Yuri.”

Mildly unpleasant?  Nothing ‘mild’ could have made someone scream like that.  Yuri watched Flynn go with growing fury, while next door, Pherick quietly sobbed on his bed.

The door opened and a knight said, “Ah, hello, Commandant.  All finished?”

“I am, thank you.  Here, would you like a ginger beer?  I hope it’s not a problem.  I still feel affection for Yuri even though I know what he did….”  Flynn sighed wearily.  

“Oh, well, giving prisoners gifts isn’t exactly regulation, but I’m sure it’s ok if it’s from you, Commandant.  Thanks a lot for the drink!”  After Flynn’s footsteps left, the guard said to himself, “What a nice guy.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Behind Bars

Flynn sat in the corner of a Knight station, feeling very small.  There was a blanket around his shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate in his hands, but it had gone cold hours ago.  When they first arrived, Leblanc had brought him the blanket and offered to send someone to inform his parents, but Flynn had mumbled something about not having any, and then no one quite knew what to do with him after that.  

The office was lit by blastia-powered lights, but through the windows, Flynn saw a hint of dawn.  A new day was beginning.  The first day of the rest of his life without Yuri.  That thought made a pressure swell in his chest and the liquid in his mug rippled from his trembling hand. No one else in the room noticed.  It was a small building somewhere in the public quarter, with shiny wooden floors, brick walls, and rows of desks.  Knights coming off the night shift were packing up, while those coming on for the day were arriving.  Flynn wasn’t sure where Leblanc, the only Knight who’d paid any attention to him beyond a few mentions of ‘the witness’, was.  

The door that led to the street swung open and a deep voice was loudly saying, “…don’t care if his mother is the empress; I want that man behind bars.”

“Understood, sir.”  Two men entered the building, and by the way the knights milling around fell silent and backed away to give them space, Flynn guessed they were important.  One was very tall with white hair and ornate armour, while his conversation partner wore orange and had dark hair that hung around his face.  “I assure you, my brigade is putting together as much evidence as possible.”

“I trust you, Schwann.  Where is he?”

Schwann gestured to a door across the room.  “In a cell.  I was going to have him transferred to the castle prison this morning.”

“I’m going to speak with him,” the taller and scarier man said. “Wait here for a moment.”

“Yes, sir.”  Schwann saluted and the other man walked away.  Then Schwann turned around and his eyes landed on Flynn, whose heart jumped at the sudden notice.  The knight came closer and Flynn’s trembling got worse as an obviously-high-ranked knight focused on him.  “Hey, there,” Schwann said when he reached Flynn and crouched to be at his level.  “What are you doing here?”

His voice was much less severe now that he was addressing Flynn, which calmed him down slightly.  He didn’t know what to say, though, because he wasn’t sure why he was still here, either.  He just knew that Leblanc had told him to sit tight and wait, and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to leave before someone gave him permission.  “I don’t know,” he mumbled.  “Leblanc told me to stay here.”

“Leblanc? Is he a knight?”

Flynn nodded.  “I think he’s in your brigade.”

“Do you know why he told you to stay here?”

“Because….”  Flynn’s throat clenched; he hadn’t actually put this into words yet.  “I was there when… when the killer attacked Yuri.”

Understanding dawned.  “I see.  I was told there was a witness.  What’s your name, kid?”

“Flynn,” he mumbled.  

“My name is Schwann Oltorain.  I’m the captain of this brigade.”

“Who was the other guy?”

Schwann glanced to the door.  “Him?  That was Commandant Alexei.  Don’t you worry; there’s some trouble getting this guy charged, but the Commandant will put it right.”

“What do you mean?  I saw him kill Yuri.”  His chest throbbed.  

“I know.  But he has friends who are very important in the Empire and they don’t want to see him go to jail.”

Flynn’s knuckles turned white as they clenched around the mug.  “He shouldn’t go to jail.  He deserves to die.”

Schwann patted his shoulder.  “Maybe so.  Now, where are you parents?”

Flynn looked away.  “Don’t got any.”  All he had was Yuri, and now even that was gone.  

“I see.  Well, I assume Leblanc asked you to stay here because we need to keep track of you until the case is resolved, in case you need to testify.  We’ve all been very busy tonight, so I apologize that you’ve been ignored for so long.  You look pretty sleepy though, Flynn.  Have you slept at all?”

“No.”  He’d been awake all night, but was afraid to face sleep and the nightmares it would surely contain.  Every time he closed his eyes for a second, he saw Yuri’s body spread across the alley and he dreaded closing them for a prolonged period.  “It’s ok.  I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Hm….”  Schwanna looked down at the full mug of cold cocoa in Flynn’s hands and his heavy eyelids.  Then Schwann straightened up and took the mug.  “I think it is far past your bedtime, young man.  On your feet.”

“Huh?”

Schwann set the mug on a nearby desk and then grabbed Flynn’s arms.  He pulled him off the chair, the blanket draped around him like a cloak. Schwann pulled him around and faced him toward the door the commandant had gone through earlier.  “Go through that door and go into the first room on your left.  That’s Lieutenant Japeth’s office.  There is a small sofa against the wall and I want you to go to sleep.  If anyone asks, tell them Captain Schwann sent you and if they have a problem, to take it up with me.”

“Y-yes, sir.”  He liked being given orders.  Someone telling him what to do made life seem easier in this stormy and confusing post-Yuri world.  

Schwann squeezed his shoulder and leaned down to speak in his ear.  “It’ll be ok, kid.  You’re alive, and focus on that.  Someday, the world will go back to normal.”

“Thank you, sir,” Flynn mumbled, but he didn’t think a world where Yuri was gone could ever be a normal he was content with.  He  went through the door Schwann had indicated and found himself in a short hallway with a few doors on both sides.  Just as he was opening the one on the left, a door behind him swung open.  Flynn’s head shot over his shoulder to see the commandant stride out, face stern.

Alexei paused when he saw Flynn and said, “Young man.  What are you doing back here?”

“I - I’m going to sleep in the lieutenant’s office.  Captain Schwann told me to!”

“Did he?  I see.  Rest well.” 

Flynn stiffened as Alexei patted his head and then left.  When Alexei left the hall, he barked, “Schwann!  We need to talk.”  

What was that about?  Not like they’d tell him anyway. Flynn entered the office and saw the threadbare sofa Schwann had described.  It creaked as he sat, but Flynn didn’t put his head down yet.  He was still wrapped in the blanket, staring at the floorboards and thinking.

Flynn knew there were problems in the Empire and the Knighthood.  That was why he and Yuri had decided they wanted to join the Knights when they grew up.  But Schwann’s words bounced around his head until they turned into one simple, unshakable thought:  _ he might get away with this. _  Flynn remembered the muffled whimper he’d heard seconds before he’d realized what he was looking at, remembered the stricken expression on Yuri’s still, pale face, and his knees shook.  Flynn clutched them and noticed how stiff the fabric was.  His knees were covered in dried blood - Yuri’s blood.  The shaking got worse and for the first time all evening, his numb shock cracked and tears sprang to his eyes.  

Yuri was dead.  He was dead, and gone, and never coming back, and he’d suffered so much in his last minutes.  He was Flynn’s best friend, the person he’d relied on just to be there for so much of his life that he could barely remember a time when Yuri wasn’t there.  And it had been ripped away from him so suddenly and violently, and now the person responsible might get away with it.  It was going to be like all the other cases where rich people of high birth did horrible deeds and all they got was a slap on the wrist.  Now Flynn wasn’t sure if he was shaking from grief or fury.  

All his life, the Empire had let him down.  They took taxes from the lower quarter, but what did any of them get in return? Flynn’s mom had dutifully paid her taxes to the Empire every year, but when she fell sick, the Empire did nothing to prevent her from dying.  The Knights were there to protect them, but they’d taken Flynn’s father away and he never came back.  They were supposed to provide order, but now Yuri had been murdered and the Empire wasn’t even going to give him justice! The Empire had never done anything for him but make life harder and less fair.  Flynn had always held to his optimism that the justice system was basically good and just needed to be cleaned up, but now even that vanished.  He couldn’t rely on the Empire to do anything for him.  There was no point trying to reform the Knights when they were so broken they couldn’t even punish a man who’d murdered a child.  The only thing that would work was a complete overhaul from the ground up, and that would take years. If Flynn ever wanted to see justice for Yuri, he would have to do it himself.  

He wasn’t sure when he’d gotten to his feet, and he wasn’t sure exactly what his plan was when he grabbed the knife sitting on Japeth’s desk.  The blanket slid to the floor as Flynn drifted to the door, vision blurred by tears and hands shaking violently, out of the office and through the door Alexei had left.  This was a dimly lit room with a few cells of iron bars.  Only one of them was occupied and Flynn’s heart began to throb painfully when the occupant looked up and met his eyes.  There was still blood on his hands - Yuri’s blood - and a sound like a cross between a sob and moan dragged from Flynn’s mouth.  

A ring of keys hung on a hook by the door.  His shaking hand accidentally knocked it to the ground and he had to crouch to pick it up again.  

“What do you want, little boy?” the man in the cell asked.  

Flynn stumbled toward the cell, still brandishing the knife.  It took a few false-starts to speak without it turning into a sob, but he managed, “Why did you do it?”

The man raised his eyebrows.  They were dark above dark eyes.  He had a neatly trimmed moustache and the beginning of lines around his eyes and mouth.  Every detail of his face etched itself into Flynn’s mind.  “Do what?”

“You killed him.”  Another wave of grief blurred his vision momentarily.  “Why did you kill him?”

“Oh.  You’re that little brat from the street.  The one whose screaming alerted the Knights.”

“Why did you kill him?”

The man shrugged.  “I wanted to. It pleased me.”

Flynn’s breath hitched.  He didn’t know what he’d expected, but to hear it confirmed that Yuri had died for no reason but amusement to some rich asshole made his rage spike.  

“Go away if you’re going to start screaming again.  Filthy little street urchin.”

Without conscious thought, Flynn shoved the key at the lock.  He missed the first few times, but got the door to unlock and the iron bars swung open.  The man rose as Flynn entered the cell, knife in hand and shoulders heaving with every breath.  

“Put that knife down, you brat.  You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Flynn barely even heard him.  All he knew was grief and rage, battling for prominence in a heart too wounded to fight for stability.  This man had killed Yuri for fun, and no one was going to make him pay for it.  No one, unless Flynn did it himself.  He screamed something incomprehensible and flew at the man, who also shouted.  Hands stained with Yuri’s blood grabbed him and tried to throw him off, but Flynn was determined to cause pain and blindly thrust the knife forward.  He knew it hit something, but he didn’t know if it was flesh or just fabric.  

More voices shouted and some small part of his brain was aware of people running.  Flynn kept attacking so that he could make this monster feel even an ounce of the suffering he’d put Yuri through.  Someone grabbed him from behind and Flynn lashed out with the knife, striking armour.  One arm wrapped around his chest while the other gripped the wrist with the knife.  Someone else ran past him and tackled the man, shoving him against the wall with his arm twisted behind his back.

“Let me go!” Flynn wailed, struggling against someone more than a foot taller than him.  “I have to - he needs to - let me go!”

“Put the knife down,” said a deep, calm voice behind him.  

“The boy just attacked me!” the man cried.  “I didn’t provoke him at all!  I demand that he be charged for this assault.”

“Shut up,” Schwann said, holding him still.  Over his shoulder, he said, “There’s a minor wound on his side.  Nothing serious.”

“Put down the knife,” the man behind Flynn said again. 

Flynn’s body, moving on auto-pilot, kept struggling as he panted for breath between sobs.  But the grip on his wrist was unyielding and his hand was still trembling, so he lost his grip and the knife clattered to the ground.  The man behind Flynn quickly moved to kick it out of the cell and then wrapped both arms around Flynn’s chest to lift his feet from the ground and carry him backwards out of the cell.  Schwann followed and used the keys discarded on the floor to lock it once more.  

Finally Flynn was released, but now his energy had been spent and he collapsed to the floor.  On his knees, he wrapped his arms around his head and tried to stop crying, especially now that he realized the man who had been holding him was the commandant.  

“Who is responsible for this boy?” Alexei asked.

“I apologize, sir,”  Schwann said.  “I told him to take a nap in Lieutenant Japeth’s office.  I should have sent someone to keep an eye on him.”

Alexei crouched and rested a hand on Flynn’s shoulder.  “Where are his parents?”

“He said he doesn’t have any, sir. From what I understand, he lives alone at an inn in the lower quarter.  I was going to have someone escort him back there this morning.”

The words ‘he lives alone’ made Flynn cry harder, because that had never been true before.  Even after his lost his parents, there had always, always, been Yuri.  He wanted to stop because it was undignified to be crying like a baby in front of such important men, but he just couldn’t control himself.  

Alexei let out a long sigh.  “He is clearly unfit to be left alone.  Not only is he an essential witness, but I cannot in good conscience send a child in such a state home alone.  I’ll take him with me.”

* * *

 

Flynn had to suppose that his situation had improved.  For one, he was no longer bound and gagged.  Of course, that came at the expense of being locked in a secure prison cell that seemed impossible to break out of.  The lack of a gag meant he could try calling for help, but he’d already grown hoarse from trying to get anyone on the outside to hear him and it didn’t look like he’d succeeded.  

Flynn rolled on his side and the chain around his ankle clinked.  Even now, he wasn’t completely free of restraints.  He couldn’t go more than a few feet from this wooden excuse for a bed, not that there was anything else in this small cell he’d want to get a closer look at.  There wasn’t even a window he could try to peer through to figure out where exactly he was, considering he’d been drugged unconscious when he had been moved here.  Despite that, he had a pretty good guess.  

Approaching footsteps made him tense.  The glow of a lantern cut through the darkness in the corridor outside his cell.  It illuminated the rust-coloured bricks and shone on the wrought-iron bars.  Moments later, his doppelgänger came into view and unlocked the cell door.  Flynn pushed against the bed, muscles whining as he forced himself to sit up.  He had to wonder why the other man even bothered to lock the cell, because it wasn’t like Flynn could reach the door with this blasted shackle on his leg.  

“Evening.” The impostor tossed a loaf of bread on the wooden bed.  “Still among the living, I see.”

“No thanks to you,” Flynn grumbled and picked up the food.  The crust was hard but he was too hungry to care.  

“You could at least say thank you.”  The other folded his arms and leaned against the wall.  “I thought you were supposed to be the nice Flynn.”

“I’m the only Flynn.”  He ripped off a chunk of bread and shoved it in his mouth.  There was no way he would offer thanks to the man who’d imprisoned him for the small grace of not starving him to death.  

The other shook his head with closed eyes.  “It’s embarrassing how stupid you are, considering it reflects on my own intelligence.  I’ve told you: I am you.  Just… a different version of you.  The one from a different timeline, where your life went slightly differently.”

“You’re nothing like me.”

“I get why you’re trying so hard to deny this, because you arrogantly believe you’re so good and pure, but the facts are what they are.  I am Flynn Scifo.  I was born in the lower quarter at the beginning of summer twenty-one years ago, to Finath and Helen Scifo.  My best friend growing up was Yuri Lowell.  And then….”  His idle face turned hard as he met Flynn’s eyes.  “When I was thirteen years old, my best friend was murdered. I guess that’s the real difference between you and me: you’ve never experienced loss like I have.  You’ve grown up so… coddled-” he sneered “- that you were never forced to lose your childish naivety.”

Flynn had never looked at his life and thought of himself as ‘coddled’.  He’d had to fight every step of the way to get where he was now, and the idea that he’d never experienced loss was laughable.  Had he not lost both of his parents at a young age?  “You can make all the excuses you want.  I’m sorry that Yuri died in your timeline, I truly am, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to become a villain.”

“A villain? What have I done that’s so awful?”

Flynn gave him a dry look as he chewed a piece of stale bread.  “Imprisoning me is a good start.”

The other waved his hand flippantly.  “I mean besides that.  I had to get you out of the way, obviously.  I’m not trying to take over the world.  I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I am the commandant and I’m simply doing my job.”

“As if I trust you to do my job without racking up human rights abuses.”

“Of course you’d say that.  I won’t lie and say I’ve done nothing controversial, but my decision to execute the surplus criminals was really your fault.”

“You’re doing what?”

“Oh, right, I didn’t tell you.  Well, because you had to go closing down a perfectly functional prison, it was up to me to clean up your mess and find a place for all that scum.”

“And you’re going to kill them!?”

Flynn shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I? They’re criminals.  They had their shot at life and they decided to waste it.  They don’t deserve sympathy.”

Flynn pressed his hands into the wooden bench.  He had to hold himself back from attacking the bastard.  There were so many reasons he wanted to punch that man in the face, but he wouldn’t get far in his current circumstance.  “They’re human beings.  They have rights.  They’ve already been tried and were not given the death sentence.”

“This is what I mean by your childish naivety.  You’re far too soft on crime.  Criminals do nothing but make society worse for the rest of us.  I see no problem in eradicating a few more of them.”

And he’d be doing it in Flynn’s name, too.  Future history textbooks would remember him as the commandant who came to power in a blaze of progressive equality and then quickly fell into the old power-hungry ruts.  He had to get out of here, rescind the order to have surplus prisoners executed, salvage his reputation, and figure out where this doppelgänger came from in the first place.

“It’s funny, actually,” the impostor said.  “This is really the perfect location to keep you out of the way, and it’s all thanks to you that it was available in the first place.  Have you figured out where you are, yet?”

Flynn took a quick look around the iron bars and old brick walls.  “I recognize the place, yes.”

“Good, so we’re not dumb.  This is the very same prison you shut down.  How convenient for me that all these cells were sitting here recently vacated, not yet plundered for all the materials left behind.  Thank you for that.”

“I should be thanking you. Spending time in here had only strengthened my conviction that shutting it down was the right move.”

“Excellent.  When I eventually kill you, you’ll feel just as self-righteous as always.”

Flynn licked the remaining crumbs from his fingers and then leaned back.  “You’re not going to kill me.”

“Apparently you don’t know yourself as well as you think.”

“Oh, I’m sure you plan to.  I just doubt your ability to carry through on it.  You didn’t get to know Yuri as an adult, and I’m sorry about that, but I have every confidence in him to put an end to this.”  He was pretty sure he’d been arrested, but that had never stopped Yuri before.

The other Flynn smiled at that, which the original Flynn didn’t find reassuring.  “You’ll be disappointed, I think, to find out we’re about to have one more thing in common.  Yuri is going to die tomorrow morning.  He’s been sentenced to hang for the murder of Lenore Avondale.”

Flynn bolted up.  “Who?  He what? Why?”  Flynn shook his head to try to clear the rush of thoughts.  “Avondale.  Lord Avondale’s wife?”

“That’s correct.  She was murdered about two weeks ago.”

“And you’re accusing Yuri of this?!”  He didn’t know any details about the case, but he was certain Yuri was innocent.  While Lord Avondale’s wife may be related to the inhumane conditions at the prison, Flynn had every faith that it would take more direct abuses than that for Yuri to take up his sword.  

“Why not? He accused me.  Tit for tat and all that, right?”  The man shrugged.  “Whether he did or not, it’s a convenient way to get rid of him.  The execution is set for… oh, about twelve hours from now.  I’ll say goodbye to him for you, shall I?”

“I won’t let you get away with this.”  Flynn rose to his feet, fingernails digging into his palms.

“I don’t see how you plan to affect this from in here.  Goodnight.”  

He turned for the door.  Flynn began to move after him, but after just one step, the chain around his ankle pulled back.  He glowered through the bars when they clanged shut and were once again locked, and then he sat down again when his captor walked out of sight.  

Flynn leaned forward and rubbed his face.  What a disaster.  On top of everything else, now he had to fear for Yuri’s sake.  He had no illusions that the other him was bluffing about arranging Yuri’s execution.  How could he fix this in less than twelve hours?  He experimentally pulled on the chain shackled to his ankle and bolted to the wall next to the bed.  As expected, it demonstrated no weaknesses.  Yuri would get out of this on his own, right?  Yuri was resourceful.  But if he couldn’t….

The memory of soft lips pressing into his forehead rose in his mind.  Oh, how his emotions had exploded at the touch.  The simultaneous joy of believing his imprisonment was finally going to be over, coupled with the thrill of Yuri’s touch....  Flynn had long ago accepted that his crush on Yuri needed to be smothered, but sometimes it flared up again and reminded him that there are some feelings you can never fully extinguish.  It was blazing to life again now, as he contemplated the idea of Yuri dying in the morning.  The mere thought of it made his chest ache.  If Yuri died, he would… he would….

Not become a power-hungry madman, he informed himself.  Yuri was his counterweight - the person who kept him from going too far, who reminded him what they were supposed to be fighting for.  If Yuri wasn’t around anymore, though, he knew for a fact that he would stay on the right path out of respect to Yuri’s memory, at the very least.  

That is… he thought he would.  But the other version of himself, the one who was cold and cruel and represented everything Flynn feared becoming, had once been him.  Their lives had been identical, up to a point.  And what had been the divergence point?  The death of Yuri.  Flynn squeezed his eyes shut.   _ I will not become like him.  _  Even if Yuri was killed… even if he now knew that the seed for that kind of cruelty existed within himself… he wouldn’t let it happen.  No matter what, he refused to head down the same path as his doppelgänger.

* * *

 

Yuri had never been a very good student. When Flynn’s mom gave them lessons long ago, she persistently complained that Yuri was fidgety and his attention wandered. He couldn’t concentrate on a problem for more than a few minutes before being distracted by a passing cloud or squirming in his seat. She might be proud, then, to see how steadily he was able to concentrate his mind this evening. Unfortunately, the only thing that mind could concentrate on was the fact that the body it was attached to was going to be hanged in the morning.

He was more angry than anything else, really. This was the same corrupt system he’d fought against for years, and now it was claiming him as a victim. No trial, a falsified confession, and an expedited sentence. These were exactly the abuses of power Alexei had allowed to run rampant, and now this twisted version of Flynn was happily following in his footsteps. What was the point of everything he’d done, then? They saved Estelle and took down Alexei, and then patched up the world to set the stage for a brighter future, but it was all circling around back to shit.

There was fear, too, of course, though not aimed at himself. His Flynn was locked up somewhere and he dreaded imagining that the injuries he’d seen had likely multiplied. With him dead, no one would ever know the truth and Flynn could suffer for who knew how long. What would Estelle think? How would any of his friends react? They couldn’t possibly believe he’d murdered Lenore, right? Maybe, though, it would be better for them to believe he’d done it. At least then they wouldn’t have to grieve the injustice on top of everything else. 

He couldn’t deny there was also fear for himself, though. It kept slipping between all his other thoughts. Would it hurt? Of course it would fucking hurt. The question was how much it would hurt, which Yuri knew could range from a quick crack to a drawn-out struggle for breath. The hangman could determine that by the length of the rope and the knot tied, and Yuri regretted all his years antagonizing the knights and making them generally unsympathetic to him.

He lay on his back, absently rubbing the bandages on his aching arm.  At least he wouldn’t have to deal with that pain after tomorrow morning.  Too bad he wouldn’t get to see how cool the scar turned out.  Or how the mess with Flynn would be resolved. Or find out who the Butcher was.  Or if Estelle ever finished her book, or how Karol grew up, or….

_ Fuck _ .  Yuri squeezed his eyes tightly for a second. He wished the knights had just chopped his head off the moment they decided he should die, because sitting in a cell and waiting for an appointed execution was torture.  It was impossible to know what time it was without access to daylight, and Yuri didn’t even have anybody to chat with to try to take his mind off his impending death.  Pherick had been moved earlier today after he wouldn’t stop complaining to any knight who passed by that the commandant had tortured him and he demanded reparations.  Yuri had tried to stick up for him, but after the doctor concluded that there were no marks anywhere on his person and Yuri couldn’t explain what had happened beyond, “Flynn hurt him with a bottle of sodapop”, the matter was dismissed.  Yuri assumed he’d been transferred to another jail because the knights here were sick of him.  

Knight footsteps clanked down the steps and Yuri’s heart throbbed into his chest.  It couldn’t be time already!  The knight had to be coming for him, though, because there was no one else down here.  Was it already dawn?  He hadn’t thought of a way out of this, yet.  Shit, shit, shit.  

A man drew level with the bars.  “Yuri Lowell?”

An unexpected flash of betrayal shot through him as Yuri sat up.  He struggled to keep his voice typically cocky as he said, “Here escort me to the noose?”  He hadn’t expected it to be Leblanc.  He and Leblanc were not  _ friends _ , but a few years of playing cat and mouse had left Yuri with the impression that they had an… understanding. He knew Leblanc was a basically decent chap who had the misfortune of being a knight and a weakness for following orders, while Leblanc knew Yuri to be an overall harmless guy who toed the line of the law and did a little rabble-rousing in his spare time without being an actual danger to anyone.  Leblanc would happily slap him in handcuffs and throw him in a cell for a few weeks, but he didn’t want Yuri  _ dead _ .  At least, Yuri hadn’t thought he did.  

“Did you kill Lenore Avondale?” Leblanc asked.

Yuri sat on the edge of the bed.  If he was going to be executed, he was in no rush to get up.  “I thought the justice system had already decided I did.”

“I know what the official decision is.  I could have asked anyone for the verdict.  That’s why I’m asking you: did you kill her?”

Yuri looked away.  “What does it matter?  Whether I did or didn’t, I’m going to hang for it anyway.”

“It matters to me.  Did you kill her?”

“No.  I didn’t.  I still think the fake Flynn did.”

“Fake Flynn….”  Leblanc rubbed his chin.  “I heard you’re claiming the commandant has an evil twin?”

For the first time since he’d been arrested, he felt like someone was actually listening to him.  Relief soared; even if he died in a few hours, someone would know what was going on.  As succinctly as he could, he filled Leblanc in on what he’d witnessed at Flynn’s house, and the conversation he’d had with the fake Flynn earlier.  “I’m not making this up,” he finished with.  “I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“I believe you.  You’ve never been one to come up with nonsensical stories.  You own up to your misdeeds when you get caught; I’ve always respected that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“An impostor from an alternate universe, huh?”  Leblanc shook his head wearily.  “This is above my pay grade.  Sounds like this is the kind of thing you’d be better off handling, Lowell.”

Yuri held up his hands.  “Not much I can do from death row.”

There was a clank, a click, and a creak was the cell door swung open.  “You’ll have to get off your ass and get out of here, then.”

 


	10. Break Out

It had been about a month since Yuri was murdered, but Flynn remembered little of it.  Alexei had brought him back to the commandant’s suite in the castle and given him free reign to wander the castle, as long as he didn’t bother anyone or enter restricted areas.  Flynn had spent the month in a daze, roaming opulent halls and wondering if this was all part of a dream.  The only time he felt physically part of the world was when he found himself at the Knight’s training ground.  

He watched the knights train with desire.  Every time swords clanked, he thought about about an alternate reality where he was strong and armed like them and could blaze into the alley and cut the murderer to ribbons.  After a few days of watching, some of the knights had called him over and offered to let him practice with them.  Flynn had never been formally trained, and enjoyed the chance to receive guidance from a professional for the first time in his life.  While his muscles burned from activity and his mind focused on drills, he was finally able to stop thinking about Yuri.  

In the evening, Flynn made his way back to Alexei’s rooms.  Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and fresh bruises dotted his arms and torso from a day of training with the knights, but he didn’t mind.  It felt good to work his muscles.  He would have stayed longer, but Alexei had dinner sent up from the kitchens at seven-thirty and it would be rude to let it get cold.  He pushed open the door just in time to hear, “…all I could, but I don’t know if -”

Captain Schwann stopped when Flynn entered the main room of the suite.  He glanced at Alexei, questioning if he should continue.

“Sorry,” Flynn muttered.  He’d seen Schwann around the castle a few times while he’d been here, and they’d even had a chat once the first time Schwann spotted him.  Schwann just wanted to know how he was holding up, to which Flynn hadn’t been able to say much more than a grunt.  “I didn’t know you….  I’ll go.”

He started to turn, but Alexei stopped him.  “It’s all right, Flynn.  Captain Schwann was just leaving.  Come sit down before dinner gets cold.”

Flynn looked between him and Schwann and slowly crossed the living room.  As he was sitting down in the dining room, he heard Alexei say, “I understand.  It seems we’ve done all we can.”  He let out a frustrated sigh.  “This keeps happening.  It makes me wonder if going about things the traditional way is even worth it.”

“I don’t follow, sir.”

There was a long pause, and then: “Forget it.  You’re dismissed.”

A few seconds later, Alexei emerged in the dining room.  He put on a smile and said, “Good evening.  Did you have a good day?”

Flynn shrugged and finished chewing a piece of prime rib (what food! He couldn’t get over the quality and quantity of food in the castle).  “It was ok.”

Alexei sat at the head of the table and picked up his own knife and fork. “I’ve heard you’ve been training with my men.”

“Yeah  - I mean, yes, sir.”

“I’ve heard you’re quite talented.”

Flynn turned his nose to his mashed potatoes.  “Not really.  I’ve never really had training before.  Just… fooling around with Yuri.”  His throat tighten the way it always did when Yuri’s name came up.  

“You don’t have to have formal training to show a spark of talent.  I was also impressed by the way you confronted the murderer in jail.  It was a foolish action, but it certainly demonstrated spirit. I think you have the makings of a strong warrior.”

“Thank you, sir.”  Such high praise from the commandant himself didn’t do much to break through the grey veil that had hung over his life for the past month.  

“Have you ever considered becoming a knight?”

He nodded.  “Yuri and I always planned to.  We were… going to join together.”

“And do you still wish to?”

Now that Yuri was gone and he’d be joining alone?  “I’m… not sure, sir.”  Eager to change the topic, he asked, “Why was Captain Schwann meeting with you here and not your office?”

“It was not a formal meeting.  I’d already officially ended my work day, but he had received news and thought I would prefer to hear it as soon as possible.”

Flynn studied the pink meat as he sliced off another piece.  “What sort of news?  Um, sir?”

He should have known what it would be about when Alexei hesitated for so long before answering.  “It concerns the conclusion of the case of the so-called Backstreet Butcher.”

Flynn glanced up and saw Alexei watching him intently.  Aware that the conversation would shut down if Alexei thought he couldn’t handle it, Flynn carefully reigned in his stampeding emotions.  “Oh.  What happened?”  Hopefully, an execution date had been set.  Flynn had never thought himself a violent person, but he couldn't wait to see this bastard hang.

Alexei spoke carefully.  “It has been decided that there is insufficient evidence that the man in Knight custody is the perpetrator of the heinous crimes plaguing the lower quarter.”

Flynn’s fork hit the edge of the plate with a clatter.  “But I saw him!  I saw him kill Yuri!”

“But the Knights did not.  They arrived too late to see it happen, and he is claiming he arrived on the scene, chased the murderer away, and then approached you to try to help.”

“That isn’t what happened!”  Flynn’s voice cracked.  “He-”

Alexei held up a hand.  “I am aware.  I’m certain the judge does as well, because he’s been sentenced to several years of house arrest in his estate outside the city, allegedly for threatening a minor with a knife.  That is the best we could do.”

“They didn’t even ask me.  You said I was staying with you because I’m a witness, but nobody ever asked me any questions!”

“It was decided that a child from the lower quarter was not a sufficient witness to speak against a man of such high standing.”

“But he killed someone.”

“He had many connections on the Council. If it came out that the serial killer who has been plaguing our streets is a friend of prominent city officials, it would be damaging to their reputations and careers.  Everybody wants to sweep this under the rug.  It’s why they’ve decided he should be protected by anonymity - everybody knows the man we arrested last month was the culprit, but we can’t make it official.  They’re just going to quietly shuttle him off to his estate and try to forget about this embarrassment.”  

“But that’s not… how can they… he killed Yuri!”  Tears sprang to his eyes again, as they did so often these days.  “You said you’d take care of it!  You said there was trouble because of his connections but that you’d work it out!”

“I’m sorry, Flynn.  I tried, Captain Schwann tried, but some things are out of the hands of the Knights.”

“He murdered Yuri!  And a bunch of other people, too! He can’t just get a slap on the wrist and then free to live in his nice fancy house!”

“Yes, Flynn, I am aware.  I would very much like to see him appropriately punished, but it’s out of my hands now.  I have done all that is in my power, but this is the best we will get.”

“It’s not fair!”

“Life seldom is.”

Flynn shoved his chair back and stormed away from the table.  Obviously Alexei wasn’t to blame for what happened, but he didn’t think he could handle staying at the dinner table and having a civilized conversation.  In the spare room, he curled into a ball on the bed and pressed his face into his knees.  Yuri was dead and no one was getting punished for it. Now that the case was settled, Alexei didn’t need to keep him nearby so it would be back to the Comet for him.  For the first time, he’d have to return to the room that would remind him so forcibly of Yuri, and how his friend would never set foot in it again.  

It was at least fifteen minutes before he’d cried himself out.  When he couldn’t find anymore tears, he rubbed his eyes and pressed his head against the wall, taking deep breaths.  A few minutes later, there was a light knock on the door.  He didn’t answer, so after a few seconds, Alexei entered. 

“I’ve put your dinner in the oven to keep it warm.”

Flynn stared at him.  Huh?  It took a few moments to process thoughts of anything other than Yuri.  “Oh.  Th-thanks.”  He scrubbed his eyes.  It made no sense that Alexei seemed to believe he had potential to be a great knight considering how often he’d seen him cry.  “When do you need me to leave by?  I can go tonight if you want.”

“Leave?”

It was good to try to concentrate on practical matters.  “Since you don’t need me anymore.”

“Hm… where will you go?”

Flynn shrugged.  “Back to the Comet, I guess.”

“Where you still have no guardian?”

“I’m used to it.”  Even though he’d always had Yuri with him in the past.  But… he had to make do now.  He needed to get used to life post-Yuri.

Alexei folded his arms and deliberated for a few moments.  “You’re welcome to stay here.”

“Stay… here?”

“This apartment is certainly large enough.  You’ve made a good deal of progress with the sword in just a month; it would be a shame to halt your training now.”

“You’re serious?  I mean… you’re the commandant.  I can’t just… you really don’t mind?”

“I am interested to see what kind of man you become, Flynn Scifo.  Stay here, continue training with a blade, and perhaps in a few years I will have a valuable new knight to enter my army.”

Far too much information was crowding Flynn’s head to fully process this.  “I… thank you, sir.” The thought of living at the castle for years to come was too difficult to comprehend in his state.  All he knew for sure were two solid facts: his best friend was dead, and from now on he would live with the commandant.  

* * *

 

Yuri had hoped he would never have to wear a Knight uniform again after Heliord, and yet here he was.  Leblanc had supplied the uniform, complete with a face-concealing helmet.  They walked through the castle, because running would look suspicious.  Yuri wondered how long it would take for someone else to pop down to the jail and notice he wasn’t in his cell anymore, and hoped they got out of here before that happened.  

“Does anyone else know what you’re doing?” Yuri asked.  They were in the wee hours of the morning, so the hallways were thankfully deserted.  Moonlight through the windows gleamed on the polished floors of the otherwise dark corridors.  

“No.  I haven’t informed my subordinates.”

Yuri had a mental image of the tweedles attempting subterfuge and was very thankful Leblanc hadn’t hinged Yuri’s life on it.  “Probably for the best.”  

The helmet was uncomfortable and Yuri couldn’t wait to take it off.  His hair was tied into a hasty bun so it would be concealed under the helmet, which now pressed awkwardly against his skull.  His arm ached, too.  Leaving it in a sling would be too noticeable, since any knight with a crippled arm would be on medical leave and not wandering around in uniform.  The close-fitting black sleeve clung to the bandages and the heavy steel gauntlet pulled at the stitches.  He couldn’t risk taking it off, though, because they’d passed numerous servants cleaning the public areas while the residents were asleep.  No one paid any heed to a pair of knights passing through.  

They were nearing the exit in the Knight’s wing of the castle when someone else rounded a corner ahead of them.  This time, it wasn’t a maid.  Sodia paused when she saw them and then said, “Good evening, Leblanc.”

“Good evening.”  Yuri hoped it was only knowing it was there that caused him to see guilt splash across Leblanc’s face.  “What brings you here at this hour?”

“Work.”  She rubbed her eyes and yawned.  “I fell asleep in my office while dealing with the papers for the surplus prisoners.”  She raised her hand to demonstrate the pile of paperwork she held.  “I promised the commandant I’d leave them on his desk before I left tonight, so I’m heading there now.”

“Why are you working so hard to help him accomplish something that is clearly immoral?”

Sodia’s sleepiness vanished. “I’m doing my job.  I trust his judgement.”  

“Hm.”  Leblanc clearly had more thoughts on this, but thankfully he didn’t want to start an argument with Yuri standing right behind him.  So far, Sodia hadn’t noticed him, but if she looked close, she might see through the gaps in the helmet and make out his face.  The darkness of the hallway was working in their favour for now.  

“I’ve already heard your opinion on all this.  Don’t tell me you believe Lowell’s story about evil twins or alternate universes or whatever he’s claiming now?”

Leblanc stiffened.  “Of course not.”

“I’m glad the commandant has finally seen the truth about Yuri Lowell.  I admit I’m surprised he made such a quick turnaround on him, but I suppose the evidence that he’d murdered an innocent person was highly coercive.”

Yuri bit his lip to hold in the comments he longed to add.  

Leblanc couldn’t help but ask, “You don’t think it’s a little odd that he’s had such a sudden change of heart?  Whatever the reason, to turn on Yuri Lowell and condemn so many prisoners to death so suddenly does seem uncharacteristic.”

“It is not our place to question the commandant’s judgement.  If we can’t have faith in Flynn, in whom can we?”

“Hm… I suppose.”

“Anyway, what brings you here at this hour?”

“Ah, this new recruit needed guidance for his first graveyard shift.  I was just… showing him the ropes.”

Sodia’s eyes fell on Yuri.  Was that recognition on her face?  His arm ached and begged for him to adjust the gauntlet, but he didn’t dare with Sodia watching.  “It’s kind of you to take that job on yourself, Lieutenant.  It shows excellent leadership.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a good evening.”

Both Yuri and Leblanc had to keep themselves from running the second they were free of the conversation.  They maintained a casual pace, and Yuri stopped himself from checking over his shoulder.  When he was certain she was out of earshot, he muttered, “Sodia is as helpful as always.”

“I’m helping you escape jail, Lowell.  I’m not here to gossip about my colleagues with you.”

“Aw, and here I thought this was the start of a beautiful friendship.  You gonna reject my invite for a slumber party, too?”

Leblanc let out a sigh through his nose that rustled his moustache.  Perhaps Yuri should shut his mouth before Leblanc decided against helping him.  

They made it to the exit without running into anyone else.  Yuri had never been so glad to breathe outside air. Even if it was cool, damp, and smelled of dead worms.  He reached for the helmet to free his hair, but Leblanc grabbed his wrist.  “Wait.  Leave it on until we get off the streets.  Just in case.”

“Where are we going?”  Yuri looked back at the lights of the castle as he hurried down the road.   Had they noticed he’d escaped yet?  Would he hear the commotion of the search from here if they had?  “Comet?”

“Of course not.  That will be the first place they look.  The lower quarter will be crawling with knights looking for you within a few hours.  I’m taking you to my house in the public quarter.  No one knows I was involved in your escape, so ideally no one will think to look there.”

“Your… house?”  Somehow, it had never occurred to him that Leblanc had a house.  Obviously, if he had ever put thought into it, he lived  _ somewhere _ , but imagining him in a house was as weird as imagining him out of uniform.  

“It’s this way.”  

It wasn’t currently raining, but the puddles they tromped through indicated it had been recently.  The clouds overhead blocked any hint of moonlight, so the only illumination on the road were candles in windows. Yuri had trouble seeing with the helmet covering most of his face.  This was another reason he hated the Knight uniform; you couldn’t see a damn thing.  Sure it protected the head, but it was killer for agility.  

It took about twenty minutes of walking through the dark, rain-soaked streets to reach a narrow house of brown bricks squeezed into a corner of the public quarter.  A candle glowed in the front window and Leblanc looked up and down the street to make sure no one was watching as he led Yuri up the steps.  They slipped inside and quickly shut the door.  Yuri tripped on shoes piled by the door, and Leblanc grabbed his arm to keep him from crashing into the floor.  

“Whoops.”  Yuri grabbed the wall to stabilize himself.  

“Shhh.”

“Not like the Knights will-”

“Sh!”  Leblanc whispered, “My daughter is asleep.”

Yuri blinked twice and then whispered back, “Daughter?”  He was about to ask more when soft footsteps carried a candle down the hallway.  A woman in a nightgown greeted them as Leblanc took off his boots.  

“You must be Yuri,” she said.  “Martin has told me everything.”

“Martin?”  Yuri looked between her and Leblanc.  “Who’s Martin?”

The woman giggled as Leblanc sighed.  “I’m Martin.”

“Excuse me?”

“My first name is Martin.”

“Your first name is Lieutenant.”

The woman covered her mouth to stifle another giggle.

Leblanc ignored Yuri’s comment and said, “Let me introduce my wife, Charlotte.”

Yuri shook her hand.  “Nice to meet’cha.”

“I’m pleased to finally meet you.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

There was a long silence as she glanced at Leblanc.  “Well.”

Yuri snickered.  “I can imagine.”

Leblanc grabbed Yuri’s arm to pull him away from his wife.  “You can sleep on the couch.  And don’t touch anything.”

“How can I sleep on the couch without touching it?”

As they entered the living room, Leblanc said, “I can send you right back to jail, Yuri Lowell.”

* * *

 

Flynn didn’t know what time it was, only that it must be very late.  It was hard to accurately gauge the time in a windowless cell.  He sat on his bed with his foot resting on the edge to give himself more slack in the chain.  With one link gripped in his hand, he scraped it against the brick around the ring bolted to the wall.  With each scrape, clay powder fell away.  Eventually, either the metal link would be worn thin enough he could snap it, or the brick would be fragile enough he could pry the ring out of the wall.  It might take weeks to get to that point, but he didn’t have any other ideas.

If he got free of the shackle, he could get to the cell door, and then he could figure out how to unlock that.  Hopefully it was less secure, because his captor would be relying on the ankle cuff to keep Flynn restrained.  From there, he’d navigate out of this prison and hope there weren’t any more locked doors, and then make it through the streets of Zaphias and back to the castle before the doppelgänger returned and took him captive again.  There was an awful lot of hoping and wishful thinking in his plan.  

Worst of all, he’d been at it for hours already and the scratch in the brick was only about a millimetre deep.  There was no way he’d get out of here before dawn, with enough time to make it to the castle and order Yuri’s release.  He had to believe that Yuri would find a way out of this mess without Flynn’s help.  Yuri could not die in the morning.  Just imagining how he’d feel if the execution went as planned made sympathy for the doppelgänger rush through him.  When the other Yuri was killed, that version of himself responded by cracking down horribly on criminals.  Flynn wanted to believe he would never do that, but he couldn’t shake the thought that if his doppelgänger succeeded in having Yuri killed, Flynn was going to kill him himself, laws be damned.  There was no question of whether he’d be capable of such cruelty, because he knew for a fact now that the capacity for ruthless harm existed in himself.  

_ But I don’t want to be like him _ .   The metal link slipped in his fingers as he pressed too hard against the wall. His arm ached from the repetitive action.  He  _ could  _ become a killer, like the alternate version of himself.  He could throw out the law and rain vengeance upon Yuri’s murderer - hell knew he would want to - but he would not. 

Flynn was so concentrated on trying to chisel his way to freedom that he nearly missed the thump of approaching footsteps.  He dropped the chain immediately and let his foot fall to the floor.  Seconds later, a man carrying a candle crossed in front of the bars.  Flynn had expected to see his own smug face returning to mock him, so he was shocked that someone else had wandered in here.

“Hey!”  The chain clinked in his rush to stand.  The man jolted  and turned around in shock as Flynn continued, “I would appreciate your help, please.”

The man stared through the bars.  The single candle flame did little to illuminate the dark hall of the prison, and cast menacing shadows on his otherwise handsome face.  Flynn had just been about to explain that he was the commandant, he was being held against his will and that the Knighthood would bestow a significant reward on anyone who helped him escape, when he realized he recognized the man.

“What are you doing here?”

The man raised his eyebrows.  “I was going to ask that of you.”

Flynn shook his head.  These were details that could be worked out when time was not of the essence.  “Never mind.  Can you open that door?  Perhaps there is a spare key in an office somewhere.”

The man surveyed him through the bars and Flynn was uncomfortably reminded of an animal being sized up for meat.  “No,” the man said slowly.  “How is it that you have come to be here?  I could have sworn you were acting a busy little bee in the castle today.”

“It’s a long story.  The man in the castle is not me; he’s an impostor.  I’m the real Flynn, and I can assure you that a handsome reward is in your future if you help me escape.”

“I am afraid it is simply beyond my ability.  Have a nice evening, Commandant.”  He tipped his head in a curt bow and turned away.

“Wait!”  The chain pulled against his leg as Flynn struggled to reach the cell bars.  “You can’t just leave me here!” 

The man didn’t even dignify him with a response.  

Flynn seethed with frustration and fell back to the edge of the bed.  Bitter words begged to escape his mouth, but swearing after his visitor wouldn’t convince him to come back.  Shouting and thrashing wouldn’t help Yuri.  The best he could do was sit here and try his damnedest to carve away his freedom before the sun rose.  He knew it was hopeless, but perhaps his fury at being abandoned would speed his work.  

* * *

 

When Yuri opened his eyes, someone else’s face was mere inches from his. Sleep left his mind in a flash, but before he could even remember where he was or where his sword was, the owner of the face said, “Hi! You’re Yuri, right?”

“Uh… yeah.” 

She pulled away enough that Yuri was able to see more than her big brown eyes. Her dark brown hair landed on her shoulders and she leaned against the cushion of the couch wearing a shirt with a duckling embroidered on it. “My name’s Julia. Is it true you’re a son of a bitch?”

Yuri nearly choked. “I’m a what?” Post-awakening amnesia was beginning to fade and he recalled that he was on Leblanc’s couch. 

“I hears my dad say you were one.”

“He did, did he? And do you know what it means?”

“Nu-uh.”

“It means a really cool person, and yes, I am one.” He swung his legs around and ran his hands through his hair to straighten it to the best of his ability. “Where’s your dad now?”

“He’s in the kitchen. He said to go up to my room and not bother you.”

“Clearly you follow directions well.” Yuri rubbed his eyes and then stood. The smell of pancakes drew him to the kitchen, though Julia ran past to beat him there. 

“He’s awake, he’s awake!” she yelled on her way to Leblanc. 

He sat at a simple wooden table with a mug of coffee in hand. Leblanc looked between Julia and Yuri and sighed. “Didn’t I tell you not to bother him?”

Julia’s enthusiasm faded. “Y-yeah.”

Yuri shrugged. “She didn’t bother me. I was already up.”

“Would you like some pancakes, Yuri, dear?” Charlotte turned around from the stove with a full plate in hand. She saw him begin to decline but grabbed his arm and pulled him to the table. “I made enough for you, so sit here next to Martin and eat up. There’s plenty more on the stove if you’re still hungry.”

Julia climbed into a chair across from Yuri. She’d already finished her breakfast, but seemed keen to watch the newcomer. She watched him like a hawk as he dug into the pancakes. After a few days of jail food, it was heavenly. 

“Your cooking is amazing, Mrs. Leblanc.” Yuri would have finished his plate already, but he was so accustomed to holding a fork in his left hand that trying to eat with him right slowed him down. He held his sore arm against his stomach. “I see why Martin here is overweight.”

Charlotte giggled while Leblanc choked on his coffee. “Excuse me?!” He put the mug down a touch too forcefully. 

Yuri had just finished the last piece of pancake on his plate when two new ones miraculously appeared. “You look hungry,” Charlotte said with a smile. “After all, I doubt they’ve been feeding you properly in that jail. Would you like some juice?”

Leblanc rolled his eyes. “Dear, he  _ is  _ a criminal. I broke him out of jail because he didn’t deserve to hang, not because he didn’t deserve to be there in the first place.”

“Yes, Marty, so you’ve told me. Repeatedly. For years.”

Yuri couldn’t believe the miraculous gift that had been bestowed upon him, and filed ‘Marty’ away to be used later. 

“Dad talks about you a lot,” Julia said. “Did you really steal the statue from the garden in the royal quarter? The one of that old emperor?”

Yuri clearly recalled the statue being erected a few years ago, and the general mumblings of discontent from the citizens of the lower quarter, who didn’t remember him too fondly based on their great-grandparents’ stories of mandatory conscription being based on income. ‘The Great’ was not a moniker often applied to him in Yuri’s neck of the woods. With a glance at Leblanc, he shrugged. “I can neither confirm nor deny that I had anything to do with that statue going missing and appearing in the river the next morning.”

“I know it was you, Lowell.” Leblanc glared at him over his coffee.

“Prove it.”

“Here, Yuri.” Charlotte appear beside him again, this time with a large square of white fabric. “Martin told me your arm was injured. You can use this as a sling.” 

Yuri reached for it to tie around his neck, but she went ahead and did it for him. Once his arm was secure, she said, “Now then, I think it’s time for someone to head to school.”

“Noooo.” Julia clutched the edge of the table and leaned forward. “I wanna stay here and Yuri will teach me how to steal a statue.”

“He can show you tonight.  Oh, and Marty, dear, I found a stack of papers on the desk in the study.  Did you forget those?  The ones dated from two weeks ago?”

Leblanc’s eyes widened and darted from his wife, to Yuri, and back.  “Oh… uh…. Yes, dear, I do need those.”

Yuri smirked.  “The great lieutenant forgot his paperwork?  Gosh, I bet it would be awful if more people knew this story.”

Leblanc puffed himself up.  “This is none of your buisness, Lowell!  And - and besides, I  _ did  _ try to take those to Captain Chapman’s house the evening they were due, but he was out that night.  And then Lady Avondale’s body was found the next day so obviously we all had more important things to worry about, so….”

“Yes, dear”  Charlotte patted his shoulder and then rounded to the table to guide Julia off the chair.  “They’re sitting on the desk if you need them.  Say goodbye, Julia.”  Julia paused at the door to wave goodbye, and then the pair of them left the house.

When they were gone, Yuri looked back to Leblanc. “Your wife seems nice.” Leblanc didn’t answer, so when Yuri finished swallowing another bite of pancake, he said, “Boy, I’d hate to see the face you’d give me if I said she was awful.”

“Just eat your breakfast, and stay away from my daughter. I don’t want you giving her any ideas about statue-stealing.”

“You still never proved that was me. Anyway, what’s our plan for today?”

“Firstly, I’m going to the castle to act surprised when they tell me you’ve escaped, and then I’ll do my best to derail the search for you. Your number one priority must be to locate and rescue Commandant Flynn.”

Yuri twirled circles in the maple syrup on his plate.  “Right.  There are some spots in the lower quarter that might work to hold a prisoner.  I’m going to do some poking around.”

“Keep a low profile.  I doubt I can break you out of prison twice.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not too hard to outsmart the Knights.”

Leblanc gave him a dirty look and opened his mouth to speak, but then a sharp knock came from the front door, which was fully visible from the kitchen table through the doorway to the hall.  Leblanc’s look of annoyance turned to panic, and then he jumped up and grabbed Yuri’s arm.  Before Yuri could question him, he was dragging Yuri across the room to a coat closet in the hall, and shoved him in.  “Don’t make a sound.”  The door shut in his face.

The whole thing happened in twenty seconds, and Yuri rubbed the injured arm that had been bumped against the doorway in the hustle.  He could have just told Yuri to hide, he thought with a grumble.  

The front door swung open.  Yuri peered through a crack in the closet door and spotted a tall, skinny knight standing on the front step.  “I say, good morning, sir!”

“Has something happened?” Leblanc asked Adecor.  Maybe it was because Yuri was listening for it, but Leblanc’s voice was slightly forced.  

“It has!  Something truly dreadful, I say!”

Yuri scowled at this; his escape from the gallows was embarrassing and inconvenient for the Knights, but he didn’t think it should count as dreadful.  

Leblanc, at least, agreed, because he said, “Come now, I doubt it was  _ dreadful _ .”

“It was, I say!  A poor child, ripped apart!”

Yuri’s heart skipped a beat.

“A - a what?”

“The lad was found early this morning.  It seems to be one more foul murder by the villain they call the Backstreet Butcher!  I say, he simply must be stopped!”

“I… I see.  You said it was a child?”

“Yes, sir! The victim was a boy called Michael Reaney.  He was eleven years old.”

Yuri closed his eyes tightly and had to stop himself from bursting out to speak up.  Michael was a friend of Ted’s. It really didn’t seem like a coincidence that all of the victims so far were from the lower quarter, and Yuri was getting pretty damn pissed that some deranged killer out there saw his people as disposable.  

“And also,” Adecor went on, “Yuri Lowell escape from prison last night!  I say, nothing will stop that felon from acting up.”

“Oh, did he?”  The edge of overacting returned to Leblanc’s voice.  “What a crime.  Well, you go to the crime scene in the lower quarter and I will take care of Lowell’s case at the castle.”

“Yes, sir!”

After Adecor left, Yuri pushed the door open and stepped into the hall.  Leblanc turned to face him, eyes heavy.  

“What are we going to do about the Butcher?” Yuri asked.

“We are not doing anything.  You take care of the search for Commandant Flynn and leave this Butcher to the Knights.”

Yuri put his fist on his hip.  “No offense, but I don’t trust you guys to take care of this.  If some psycho is chopping up kids in my home neighbourhood, I’m not going to sit this one out.”

“Commandant Flynn is the priority.  You’re the only one who even knows he needs to be rescued.  Let the Knights handle the Butcher until the commandant is back in charge.”

Yuri ground his fingernails into his palm, but had to agree Leblanc was right.  He couldn’t try to find the Butcher  _ and  _ try to find Flynn, and if he didn’t prioritize Flynn, no one else would.  But… he was heading to the lower quarter anyway, so he could at least look around a little and maybe stumble across something.  

“All right.  I’m going to the lower quarter.  You head on to the castle - and don’t forget your paperwork, Marty.”

In retrospect, Yuri couldn’t say he blamed Leblanc for smacking him.  

  
  



	11. Alexei's Protege

At the age of eighteen, Flynn stood in the main room of the commandant’s suite.  After five years of living here, though, he was able to think of it as home.  Out the window, crowds of young knights milled about in the central plaza, nervously awaiting the initiation ceremony.  Flynn would be heading down to join them shortly.  After a few months of training, it felt good to know that in an hour, he would officially be a proper knight.

“Are you ready?”  Alexei crossed the room to stand beside him.  He was dressed in his full commandant uniform in preparation for giving a speech, but Flynn had long ago stopped being intimidated by it.  

“Yes, sir.”  He stood up a little straighter, never more proud to be wearing the uniform of the Knights.  

“You look good.”  Alexei looked down at him.  “I’m very proud of you, Flynn.”

Flynn swallowed heavily.  “Thank you, sir.”  After today, he supposed, he’d be leaving the castle to join a brigade stationed elsewhere in the Empire.  He didn’t know if he would ever be able to properly repay Alexei for the guidance and opportunities he’d provided Flynn.  Because of him, Flynn had grown to adulthood in luxury and comfort.  He’d received a top-notch education, even if the first few months had been rough as his new private tutor had to adjust his lessons for a student who’d never attended proper classes before.  Every Knight in the castle knew him as the commandant’s ward, and never hesitated to spar with him or offer advice when they saw him training.  When he was old enough to sign up for the Knights, it quickly became apparent that his years of living with the commandant gave him a leg-up compared to his fellow recruits.  

In general, life was good.  He barely remembered what it felt like to go to bed hungry, and he’d never expected to have a guardian looking out for and mentoring him after his parents died - let alone a man as prestigious as the commandant.  From an objective perspective, his life had significantly improved since he moved into the castle.  But from a subjective one… he could never forget the circumstances that had landed him here.  Sometimes it even felt like a higher power had sacrificed Yuri in exchange for a dream life.  Flynn tried not to think of it that way, and instead framed it as the universe trying to right its wrongs and give him this unprecedented opportunity in some attempt to make it up to him.  At the very least, Flynn knew that the training he’d received throughout his adolescence had uniquely prepared him to rise through the Knights, until he was high enough ranked to personally help Alexei turn the Empire around and put an end to the corruption in the Council.  By doing that, he could seek justice for Yuri while simultaneously repaying Alexei.

Flynn fidgeted his hands while his mind fumbled for words.  “Sir, I also… I just wanted to say… I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me these last five years.  When Yuri was killed, I thought my life was over, too.  I don’t know where I would have ended up if you hadn’t taken me in.”

“There is no need to thank me, Flynn.”  He gave Flynn a fond smile.  “When I see the knight you are becoming, it is clear that the resources I put into raising you were a sound investment.”

“Th-thank you, sir.  I will never forget everything you’ve taught me.”

Alexei folded his arms.  “You speak as if this is a farewell.”

“Uh… is it not?  I’m going to be leaving after today to join a brigade, after all.”

“Did I not tell you?  You’re being assigned to the Royal Guard.  You’ll stay in Zaphias.  Of course, now that you have a become a man, I think you should begin living in your own quarters, but I’m sure I’ll still see you on a regular basis.  I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing dinner, for example.”

Flynn barely heard the second half of that.  “I’m - I beg your pardon!?  The Royal Guard?  But sir, the Royal Guard doesn’t take new recruits directly out of training.  You have to be promoted there based on a solid record of exemplary service.”

“Don’t worry.  I believe the commandant will make an exception for you.”

“But…”  Flynn looked to his feet and shook his head.  “I can’t accept this.  It is my dream to be part of the Royal Guard, but I want to earn it properly.  I don’t want to be a beneficiary of nepotism.”  

Alexei’s firm hand gripped his shoulder.  “I am not giving you this position because I like you.  You have earned it, Flynn.  I’m assigning you to my personal brigade because I have watched you grow into a strong, resourceful, intelligent knight, whom I believe would be quite useful to me.  This is not a gift for you; I am selfishly keeping your talents with me because I know you will be useful.”

Flynn didn’t dare raise his head because he didn’t want Alexei to see him blush.  “Even still, the other knights in the unit will think you’re just favouring me.”

“Then prove yourself to them.”  Alexei pulled his hand away.  “If you’re too afraid to seize an opportunity because of what your peers might think, perhaps I made a poor decision.”

Flynn straightened up at that and met Alexei’s eyes.  “No.  You’re right, sir.  I won’t let their jealousy get in the way of my career.”

“Good.  There’s the knight I want in my brigade.”

“I really am honoured that you’d appoint me here, sir.”

“Truth be told, it is in part because I know I can trust you.  I have a great deal of plans for the upcoming years, and I need knights I can trust to follow my orders.”

Flynn frowned.  “Sir?  What sort of plans do you mean?”

Alexei turned away from him and faced the window with his hands folded behind his back.  “The Empire is a bastion of corruption.  You know this.  Nothing has changed since the man who murdered your friend all those years ago escaped without punishment.”

Flynn’s heart flickered at the mention of Yuri, as it always did.  

“I’ve watched the Council squabble and indulge themselves, apparently oblivious to the growing threats from monsters and the Union.  It seems they’ve already forgotten the Great War.”

Flynn nodded.  He had never been a fan of the government growing up in the lower quarter, and he might have thought that being elevated to the higher classes would change his opinion of them.  Instead, he now knew the depth of their incompetence better than before.  He wasn’t sure if Alexei’s pessimism had actually expanded over the years or if he’d just been more open about it as Flynn aged, but it was no secret that Alexei had no faith in the Imperial government to get anything accomplished.  

“The Empire is spiralling out of control.  It needs a firm hand to take the reins and put things to right.”

“And you have a plan to fix these things, sir?”

Alexei looked back at Flynn.  “I do.  We cannot trust a Council comprised of spoiled noble civilians to protect and guide the Empire.  It needs to be placed in the hands of the Imperial Knighthood, or I predict that it will collapse within a few generations.”

Flynn raised his eyebrows.  “But… how would you accomplish that? The Council would never diplomatically agree to cede power to the Knighthood.  You’d have to lead an outright coup.”  When Alexei didn’t immediately scoff at his words, Flynn’s worry grew.  “Sir?  That sounds like treason.”

“Yes… it does, doesn’t it?  But if the Council’s incompetence is working against the interests of the Empire as a whole, are they not the traitors in this case?”

“I… suppose….”  He didn’t know what to think.

“Yes, a military takeover of the government sounds extreme, but consider the benefits the Empire will experience after the dust have settled.  What have I always said about cases like this?”

Flynn answered promptly. “That leadership means making difficult decisions unblinded by childish ideas of moral purity.  That a true hero doesn’t restrain himself for fear of being called a villain.”

“Exactly.  Many will call what I plan to do villainous, but it is necessary for the preservation and renewed strength of the Empire.  Can I count on your support?”

It wasn’t a difficult decision for Flynn. Doing things by the book is what got Yuri’s murderer exonerated, and besides, Alexei had never given him a reason not to trust his judgement before.  He nodded firmly.  “I’ll follow you no matter what, sir.”

* * *

 

When Yuri reached the lower quarter, his first stop was the Comet.  It was probably risky to approach his home when the knights were surely looking for him, but he trusted they would be preoccupied with Michael and focus their search around the castle this early after finding him missing.  The dark clouds threatened to dump buckets on the city later today, so no one thought his coat with a collar pulled up round his face and hat with a wide brim were unusual.  His clothes were baggy on him, since he’d borrowed them from Leblanc, but they further helped him blend in.  

Repede looked up when Yuri opened the door to his room.  He growled and then put his head down again.

“Hey, Repede.”  Yuri crouched in front of him.  “Did you miss me?”  Repede was resourceful and he knew the dog would have managed to feed himself in the past few days, but he still felt guilty about abandoning him.  “I didn’t mean to disappear like that.  I was in jail.”

Repede kept his head down, but small twitches in his tail told Yuri that he wasn’t completely unwelcome.  

“I’ve got a lot to explain.  Flynn’s being held captive and a doppelgänger from an alternate universe is running around causing problems.  He threw me in jail and tried to have me killed.  Leblanc got me out, but now I need your help to find Flynn.  Can you forgive me?”

Repede lay still for a few seconds, and then pushed himself to his feet and licked Yuri’s face. 

“Thanks.”  Yuri rubbed the side of his neck.  “Now, let’s get out of here.  I don’t want to be here when the knights come investigate my house.”

Repede followed him down the steps and to the street.  In front of the Comet, the weeks of rainfall had brought the level of the river nearly to street level.  Yuri intended on making his way to the warehouse district where he and Flynn used to play.  There were lots of empty buildings down there that someone with Flynn’s memories might think to use as a prison.  He had only gone a few blocks when a cluster of people down a side street caught his attention.  With a sick feeling that he knew what the commotion was, Yuri took a detour to check it out.  

Yuri smelled the blood before seeing anything.  A handful of lower quarter residents clustered in a ring around the entrance to an alley, speaking in hushed voices.  Yuri spotted Captain Chapman rubbing the arm of Mrs. Reaney as she sobbed against his chest.  Yuri tried to imagine Captain Cumore showing up first thing in the morning for a murder in the lower quarter.  He bitterly wondered if the new-and-not-improved-at-all-Flynn would have promoted a sufficient replacement for Cumore.  The idea that more knights might be promoted and appointed while that bastard was sitting in Flynn’s office, potentially resulting in long-term effects that counteracted everything Flynn had done so far, made him more determined than ever to put things right.  

Repede growled so softly he only felt it as vibration against his leg.  His nose was to the ground, ears pricked and tail raised.  

“What is it?” Yuri murmured.  “What do you smell?”

All Yuri could smell was the copper of blood mingling with the sweetness of a corpse beginning to rot, and he had no interest in getting closer to see the source.  It was bad enough to imagine Michael’s face in his memories of Mary’s last moments.  

Repede looked toward the entrance to the alley, and then his attention fixed back the way they had come.

Yuri crouched  to Repede’s level.  So far, everyone’s attention was on the tragedy in the alley, and they hadn’t noticed him lurking in the back yet.  He’d prefer to keep it that way.  “You smell his trail, don’t you?” Repede’s growl was enough of a confirmation.

Yuri frowned and looked over his shoulder at the route they’d been taking.  He was supposed to concentrate on finding Flynn and leave the Butcher to the Knights, but if Repede could pick up his trail… but Flynn was being help captive right now and needed to be found….  What would it be?  Flynn, or Butcher?  

A sob from Mrs. Reaney reached his ears and he sighed.  Flynn would have to hold out a little bit longer.

Repede led Yuri away from the alley.  Based on how strong the scent of blood had been, anyone walking away from that scene would reek of it.  Luckily, the Butcher had taken back streets to leave the crime scene which meant Yuri could continue keeping a low profile.  They took narrow alleys behind shops and hurried past tenement houses.  After a few more twists and turns, they reached a narrow staircase that led up to the public quarter with a fabric shop on one side and a grocer’s on the other.  The worn stairs collected rainwater in the centre and Yuri could tell Repede struggled to keep track of the scent.  Luckily, there was only one way to go.  

At the top, they stepped onto a street perpendicular to the stairs.  Water stagnated in the central gutter and rotten fruits and vegetables from the bin behind the grocer made Yuri’s nose curl. He wondered if Repede could still follow the scent, but then Repede’s ears shot forward and he growled at the metal bin.  He approached slowly, sniffing the air.

“Something there?”  All Yuri could smell was the discarded produce, but he knew better than to doubt Repede’s nose.  Cautiously, in case there was something dangerous in there, he approached the bin and pulled off the lid.  More odour escaped, but nothing jumped out at them.  Repede as still fixated on the bin, so Yuri sighed and tipped the whole thing over.  Mouldering produce spilled onto the cobbles, but something grey caught his eye.  He pushed a rotting lettuce leaf out of the way and picked up a pair of handcuffs.  Red liquid dripped from them, but that was just strawberry juice.  The reddish-brown stain on the edge of one of the loops, however…. Yuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  

When Michael was seven, he’d been one of the kids in Yuri’s neighbourhood that seemed to think he and Flynn were walking jungle gyms.  He’d never met Mary before, but he knew more than enough lower quarter women who took up the world’s oldest profession who could have been her.  He didn’t even know who the third victim had been, because she was just another riffraff off these streets whose name hadn’t been deemed important.  They were all innocent, and they were all his people.  Multiple people had told him to leave the Butcher to the Knights, but a strong part of him was desperate to catch the guy first so he could punish him the way he didn’t trust the Knights to do.  After all, even if Flynn was back in charge, all he’d face was a hanging.  He’d tortured three people to death and the beast inside roared for vengeance.   

He had to take another deep breath.  Fight the rage back; it would be there when he needed it.  For now, he stood up.  Daydreaming about crushing this bastard’s face into the concrete could come later.  He inspected the cuffs he’d found and pieced together a likely chain of events.

The Butcher cuffed his victims.  That was a distinguishing part of his MO.  Cuff ‘em so they can’t fight back when he cut them open.  The cuffs had still been on Mary, but that was because Yuri interrupted him.  Presumably, he didn’t usually leave them behind, since they were a valuable clue. When he’d finished with Michael, he took the handcuffs off and ran away.  He fled up these stairs, out of the lower quarter.  He wasn’t a lower quarter resident, then, because surely he’d be heading back to the safety of his home.  Honestly, Yuri had never thought it was someone from the lower quarter.  The Butcher chopped his people up for enjoyment and he’d bet anything it was some wealthy fuck who saw poor people as disposable as cattle.  

So, he’d dropped these cuffs here hoping they’d get thrown in the dump with the rest of the trash and never be found.  Couldn’t have bloodied handcuffs lying around the house, right?  Suppose he’d done the same to the ones he’d used on the second victim.  He’d gone through three pairs, now, and these things weren’t exactly easy to get hold of.  This exact type was produced exclusively for the official judicial system.  Some of them fell out of their hands, yes, but enough for the Butcher to toss them so easily?  Raven said he’d killed eight people last time with the same MO, so it didn’t seem like this guy had any trouble getting his hands on these things.  

Yuri recalled the false-Flynn’s interrogation of Pherick, demanding to know what he’d done with the supply of handcuffs he’d stolen.  The impostor must have suspected Pherick had sold the cuffs to the Butcher, but that had turned out to be a false lead.  That box of missing cuffs went to a bondage shop, so unless the Butcher did his shopping there… which might actually be the case, so Yuri made a note to send Leblanc over there.  At the very least, imagining Leblanc’s face in a store full of the most imaginative toys made by man would be worth it. 

Assuming that was a bunk lead, where else could someone get their hands on a large supply of Knight equipment?  Or, perhaps the question was, who had access to a large supply of Knight equipment?

Repede nudged Yuri’s leg and he looked down.  The dog was sniffing the ground again and started walking.  Of course, the trail hadn’t gone dead yet.  Stopping to dispose the evidence had just been a pit-stop.  Yuri was getting his hopes up of following the trail right to the Butcher’s door when their path took them out on a major street.  Repede whined and paced in circles, before turning to Yuri and sitting with a huff.

Yuri rubbed Repede’s head.  “It’s ok.  With all these people, horses, and carts going by, it’s no wonder the trail went cold.  You did a good job.  I guess we should head back down to the lower quarter and see about finding Flynn, huh?”

Repede barked, and the pair turned around to begin looking for a new trail.  

* * *

 

Flynn leaned against a wall in the lower quarter, arms folded.  Rain drizzled beyond the overhanging roof.  So far, today had not been a good day.  He’d woken up in good spirits, planning to start the day right with the execution of the Yuri substitute, but that had all gone wrong.  As soon as he arrived at the castle and found knights scrambling all over the place, he’d known something went wrong.  

And then he’d heard that the Butcher had struck again last night.  A young boy from the lower quarter.  Flynn had told himself he left the castle to begin some field work of his own, but he couldn’t deny that at least part of it was that the fresh breeze and air that reeked of dead worms and damp soil helped drive away thoughts of gore-slicked streets and blood soaked knees.  At the very least, he couldn’t risk letting any of his subordinates see him cry.

The Flynn of this world spoke of morality and justice, but Flynn questioned what purpose a concept like morality had in a world so full of violence and tragedy. Right and wrong? The world hardly cared about that.  Just look at life beyond the barriers: monsters tore each other apart for survival, and it was human arrogance to think they were more than a single step above that.  It wasn’t that Flynn thought humans were inherently evil; he just didn’t think they were inherently good, either.  What humans were was inherently a creature spat out into the amoral chaos of nature, that had carved a place for itself at the top of the ladder through cunning and strength, and then had the gall to turn around and claim there was some greater ideal of right and wrong.  Ethics were just an idea invented by the weak to convince the strong not to hurt them, and the only justice in the world was what you carved out for yourself.  If there was an ounce of morality inherent to the structure of the world, it would never have allowed men like the Butcher to exist.  

The Butcher could not be allowed to live, and it wasn’t because of some hoity-toity idea about him deserving to die as punishment for hurting people.  It was simple: Flynn did not want to live in a world alongside men like him.  The best any man could do in the world was decide what he wanted it to look like and then do whatever it took to achieve that.  Alexei had taught him that, before he, too, was snuffed out.  Flynn couldn’t bring him back, and he couldn’t bring Yuri back, but he could do whatever it took to make a tomorrow they might be proud of.  He was going to drag this world into a less-awful tomorrow, kicking and screaming if he had to.  

Tracking down the Butcher was proving to be difficult.  He had a leg up over the other Knights investigating, because he already knew some key information.  He knew the man was a noble, for one.  He also knew exactly what he looked like, so once Flynn saw his face, he wouldn’t bother finding evidence.  Flynn wasn’t going to deal with the process of a trial; it would be more satisfying to kill him personally.  He also knew the Butcher used handcuffs to subdue his victims, but so far he hadn’t had any luck pursuing that thread.  He’d visited the shop Pherick had sold his stolen goods to yesterday, but the majority of those cuffs were still in the shop.  The few pairs that had been sold went to residents of the lower and public quarters, and a visit to the buyers proved they had nothing to do with this.  None of them had the Butcher’s face, none of them had connections to a noble, none of them had sold the pair they bought.  The little rat Pherick had been a dead end.  

“Flynn?”  A small voice interrupted his thoughts.

When he looked up, he saw a boy standing a few feet away, rain pressing his brown hair to his head.  “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

The boy scuffed his foot in a puddle.  “I guess.  I just… I needed to get out.  What are you doing here?”

The kid was speaking to him rather familiarly, considering he was the commandant.  Flynn quickly put together that he was supposed to know this boy.

“It’s just…”  The boy approached Flynn’s impromptu shelter.  He mumbled to the ground, “I can’t stop thinking about Michael.”

Ah. He’d met this kid before on a walk through the lower quarter, and then interrogated the other Flynn on how he was supposed to know him.  It was Ted, some child who was fond of the Yuri and Flynn of this world.  

“Why’d someone have to kill him?  He never hurt nobody.  He was playing at my house late, and then he said he was going home, but I guess he - he didn’t make it.”  Ted rubbed his eyes again and quickly turned away.

Flynn closed his eyes for a second and tried to fight back the past.  “It was bad luck, Ted.  He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”  In his pocket, he felt the weight of the one gald coin.  The course of the world could change by a decision as arbitrary as the flip of a coin.  

“I know, but… but…  why did it have to be him?!  It isn’t fair!”

Flynn let out a long breath and then wrapped an arm around Ted’s shoulders.  He pulled Ted against his side, but Ted quickly gave up pretences of being tough and twisted to press his face into Flynn’s chest.  

“I m-m-miss him.  And my mom told me not to, but I went close to the alley even though the knights w-were there to block it.  And I s-s-saw….”

The body of his best friend, looking so small and broken.  Flynn wrapped both arms around Ted’s shoulders and squeezed as he sobbed.  “I know, Ted.  I know.”

“I w-wish Yuri was here. Did… did he really kill that lady?  Th-the one M-M-Michael and I found?”

Flynn looked down at the top of the boy’s head with a frown.  “As far as I know, yes.”

Ted sobbed again and balled his fists around Flynn’s uniform.  “I c-can’t believe Yuri would… she musta been a bad p-person, right?”

“I don’t know.”  He wanted to say that Lenore had been totally innocent and Yuri must be a madman, because convincing other people that Yuri must be stopped would make him feel better.  But, he knew exactly how Ted was feeling right now and couldn’t bring himself to make it worse.  “When we catch him again, you can ask him.”

“I don’t want Yuri to die.  E-even if he did kill her.  I don’t want anyone else to die.”

Flynn just rubbed Ted’s back and let him cry himself out. “It’s going to be ok, Ted.”

“H-how do you know?  Everything is a-a-all messed up.”

Flynn pulled away from Ted so he could crouch and rest his hands on Ted’s shoulders.  “Because life goes on.  Life is full of tragedies, and you just have to get used to it.”  He could tell by Ted’s face that this was not reassuring.  “It’s like getting a cut.  It hurts, and it stings, and every time you move it twinges again and you can’t stop thinking about how much it hurts.  But you can live with it, Ted.  No one has ever died from pain alone.  Eventually it will scar over, and it won’t hurt so constantly anymore - only when you think about it, only when you let it.  This world we live in is going to leave you with lots of scars.  No one makes it out of this place unscathed.  That’s why we have to be tough, and that’s why we have to look after the people we care about, because you can be sure nothing else in the world will.”

“I… I don’t think I am tough.  Not like you or Yuri.”

“I wasn’t tough when I was your age, either, but you’re going to grow from this.  Now that you’ve felt this pain, anything milder will be child’s play.”

“R-really?”

Flynn nodded.  “Yes.  You’ll live through this, and you’ll be stronger for it.  Your friend will always be with you in your memories.”

Ted rubbed his face again.  “Y-yeah… I guess you’re right….”

“I think you should go home.  Your mother is probably worried about you.”

“O-ok….”  He sniffled again.  “Thanks, Flynn.”

Flynn gave Ted one more quick hug.  “You’ll be all right.”

 


	12. Can't Breathe

Flynn had always liked Schwann.  Though he was one of the busiest knights thanks to his rank, he always found the time to give Flynn pointers at swordplay and when Flynn was younger, he always came back from extended trips away from the capital with small gifts for him.  If Alexei had taken on the role of a parent in Flynn’s life, Captain Schwann had slipped into the shoes of the cool uncle.  In the past few years, Flynn had seen less of him than usual. Alexei said he was off doing an undercover assignment, and that he’d tell Flynn more details when the situation was resolved.  Respecting Alexei’s opinion, Flynn had stopped asking about it.

“Hey, kid.”  Schwann always called him that.  When he was eighteen, it had bothered him.  He’d been trying so hard to be taken seriously as a knight outside of Alexei’s shadow, and worried that every time Captain Schwann called him ‘kid’, the rest of his unit would see him as immature.  After earning the respect of the Royal Guard by his own actions in countless skirmishes against both monsters and defectors in the Union, he’d stopped worrying about it.  A man who was promoted to captain at the age of twenty, and who operated as the commandant’s right hand by the age of twenty-one, didn’t have time to worry about being seen as childish.  

“Do you need something?”  Flynn had been leaning against a pillar, enjoying the southern sun.  He’d never been to Hypionia before, and he was enjoying the bright skies.  

Schwann strolled along the path that led into the Shrine of Baction.  “Just resting?”

“The commandant asked me to stand guard out here and make sure no one followed him in - other than you, of course.”

Schwann looked around at the barren fields and motionless trees that stretched around the Shrine of Baction.  “Hard job.”

Flynn smiled.  “I’ve had harder, it’s true.”  Zaphias was surely in an uproar over the missing princess by now, but with the Knighthood putting no effort into finding her and the Council having no reason to suspect she’d left Ilyccia, it was preposterous to think they’d be followed all the way here.  “Did you have any difficulty bringing the princess here?”

“Hm?” Schwann seemed deep in thought.  “No.  I told her the commandant needed her for a very important mission.  She was thrilled to sneak out of Zaphias with me.”

Flynn could believe that.  Estellise had always struck him as a bit of a bubble head.  Despite only being three years older than her and growing up in the same social circles, Alexei had always advised him not to get close to her.  It would make things complicated, he warned. “Do you know what exactly the commandant plans?”

Schwann folded his hands behind his back.  “No.  He didn’t tell me what he wanted to do with the princess, either.”  Schwann frowned and looked into the dark entrance to the shrine.  “Flynn… let me ask you, do you think it’s… right?  What the commandant is doing to Princess Estellise?”

“Right?”

“Whatever that aer thing he’s got her trapped in… it’s hurting her.”

“I noticed.  It’s unfortunate.”

“’Unfortunate’, yeah…..  Have you ever thought, maybe we’re going too far?”

Now it was Flynn’s turn to frown.  “I’m not sure what you mean, Captain.  We’re fighting an uphill battle to reform the Empire and throw out the ineffective Council.  If we don’t go far enough, everything will just roll back to complacency.  We have to do whatever it takes to achieve our goal.”

“True, true….  In any of your studies, did you ever learn about Pyrrhic victories?”

“Of course.”  You didn’t get to be an officer in the Knighthood without at least reading a few books on tactics.  “When you win, but the losses you sustained achieving it are so great that the victory is meaningless.  You think this is a situation like that?”

“I’m just wondering aloud, that’s all.  You know I owe Commandant Alexei my life and I’ll follow any orders he gives, but… I just have to wonder, at what point does the brightness of the goal we’re reaching for stop outshining the shady stuff we do along the way?”

Flynn hadn’t been sure what to make of Schwann’s questioning.  Alexei had his faith completely, and he saw giving up when they entered shaky ethical footing to be an example of human weakness and caving to the social construction that was morality.  He wasn’t sure if he could argue this to Schwann, though, in part because he’d always respected Captain Schwann nearly as much as Alexei himself and didn’t want to start a confrontation with the man.  He’d agreed that it was a difficult question and left it at that, and then Schwann ruffled his hair, told him to stay alert for invading bunny rabbits, and entered the shrine.  

A little over an hour later, the ground rumbled.  Flynn jumped up from where he’d been sitting against a pillar and looked around for the source.  Movement caught his eyes and he turned to see an entourage exit the shrine, Alexei at the lead.  The princess hung limply in a bubble of aer and a small group of knights brought up the rear.  The ground shook again and now cracks appeared in the walls.  

“Ah, Flynn.  Good, I was looking for you.”  Alexei let his troops march by and stopped to stand next to Flynn.  “Thank you for waiting.”

“What’s happening, sir?”  The roof of the shrine shuddered and then chunks of stone collapsed inward.  

“It’s nothing to worry about.  I’ve set off blastia explosives around the shrine to destroy it.”

Flynn’s mouth hung open as he looked between Alexei and the growing cloud of dust.  “People are still in there!”  He started to move, but Alexei caught his arm.  “All of our knights have left with me now.  It’s perfectly fine.”

No more knights were leaving, and Flynn didn’t see the familiar orange uniform among them.  Could Alexei have forgotten?  “No!  Sir, Captain Schwann entered the shrine and I haven’t seen him exit yet.”  The booms of blastia thudded in his chest and the walls of the ancient building caved in on themselves.  “He’s still in there!”

Alexei tightened his grip on Flynn’s arm.  “I am aware.”

Flynn’s eyes widened.  “But Captain Schwann - “

“Has betrayed us.”

“He… what?”

Alexei nodded.  “For the past several years, Schwann has been undercover in the Union gathering intelligence.  I have recently learned that he has ‘gone native’, so to speak, and was passing information to Don Whitehorse.  I left him to deal with that Entelexeia-lover Pantarei and destroyed the shrine to get rid of both of them, and the sword, in one go.”

“You… you killed….”

Alexei met his eyes.   “Schwann was a traitor.  He brought his fate on himself when he chose to turn his back on us and feed secrets to the enemy.  The punishment for treason is death; I merely accelerated his sentence.  Now come, we have to hurry to Zaphias to continue the plan.”

Alexei rejoined his troops, but Flynn remained where he was and watched the dust cloud rise.  A familiar cold crept into his heart and flashes of Schwann saying farewell and heading into the building flashed through his memory.  Schwann was… gone.  He’d just talked to him an hour ago, and now he was gone.  It was so strange how life could come to an end so abruptly.  Yuri had been walking home, and then he wasn’t.  Schwann had been a fixture of his life and his ideals of the Knighthood, and now he was gone.  Not only that, but he had been retroactively tarnished by the knowledge that he’d betrayed them.  

_ “Flynn… let me ask you, do you think it’s… right?” _

Schwann hadn’t been asking his advice, he’d been feeling out Flynn’s opinion and testing if Flynn could be brought to his treacherous side. That bastard!  What kind of screwed up world was this where the people you cared most about could stab you in the back like this?  All his talk about dirtying their hands by hurting the princess or whether the ends can justify the means, when he himself was a traitor.  

This was the kind of world they lived in.  Stopping the abuse of Estellise to save her from a few hours of discomfort would mean sending her back into this disaster of a world, where she’d suffer through the cruelty of reality and injustices of nature along with the rest of them.  The world was so full of filth; it was impossible to do anything meaningful in it without getting coated in it yourself.  

* * *

 

Yuri sat in an armchair by the window and watched rain turn Leblanc’s back garden into a swamp.  The sky had begun dumping buckets on them the afternoon after Michael had been killed, and hadn’t let up for nearly a week.  On the plus side, this meant there were hardly any people on the street when he went looking for Flynn, so he didn’t have to worry as much about being spotted.  

On the down side, the constant rain made it impossible for Repede to be any use in sniffing out a trail.  Yuri had prowled every hide-out he knew of in the lower quarter and found nothing.  Asking around at bars about if anyone had seen the commandant coming or going from an unusual location turned up nothing.  He had even less luck in the public quarter, because he didn’t know it as well and couldn't risk asking questions when there were wanted posters with his face popping up all over the city.  

The patter of footsteps announced the arrival of Julia, and then she jumped up to sit on the arm of his chair.  “Hi!”

“Hey there.  You’re home late today.”

She bobbed her head and then squeezed one of her pigtails to wring out the water.  “I had to stay after school today and help the teacher move stuff out of the basement ‘cause I got in trouble.”

“Is that a normal punishment?  Where did you put it?”

“Upstairs.  She said all the rain might make the basement flood so we had to move boxes and stuff.”

“I see.  Very smart.  So what did you do?”

“You know how yesterday Jamie stole my pencil?”

Yuri nodded.  Staying at Leblanc’s house meant learning all about his daughter’s day, because she was eager to share every detail with the exciting guest.  

“So I did what you said and I punched him!”  She held up her hand and made a tiny fist.  “And he fell into a puddle and started crying and I got in trouble, but then this afternoon he gave my pencil back and said sorry.”

“Nice.  But look, when you make a fist, don’t let your thumb stick up like that.”  Yuri tugged her hand toward himself and gently pushed her thumb down to tuck under her knuckles.  “You’ll hurt your thumb like that.  When you punch someone, you want to make contact with these two strong knuckles.  Make a straight line from your hand up your arm so you have the most strength behind it and and don’t break your own fingers.”

“Ohhh.”  Julia looked down at her hand and nodded as she assessed the deadly weapon on the end of her arm.  “Thanks.  I’ll remember that next time Jamie is being a bum.”

Yuri put a finger to his lips. “But shhh, don’t tell your dad I taught you this.”

“Ok!  Do you punch people a lot?”

Yuri shrugged.  “Enough.  But only bad people.”

“Is that how you hurt your arm?”  She pointed at the bandaged arm in its sling.

“Not quite.  A bad guy was trying to hit me with a sword, so I blocked it with my arm.”  Yuri rested his other hand gently on his forearm.  “It got sliced open pretty bad.”

Julia frowned.  “Is it broken?”

He shook his head and wiggled the fingers of the injured arm.  “Nah, I can still move it.  It just hurts.”

“Next time, I think you should use a shield.”

Yuri smiled.  “Good idea.  I’ll try to remember.”

Stomping feet preceded the arrival of someone else, and then Leblanc stood in the doorway of the living room.  “Julia!”  He looked like he’d been swimming in his armour, though based on the torrent smacking the windows, Yuri guessed there was as much water in the air as in a typical swimming pool.  “Your mother told me what you did at school today, young lady!”

Julia’s shoulders hunched.  “I just did what Yuri told me to.”

This did not make Leblanc less angry.  “Lowell!  What did you tell her?!”

Yuri shrugged one shoulder.  “I was just teaching your daughter some self-defence and how to stick up for herself.”

Leblanc marched across the room, picked her up from the chair and set her on the ground.  “We don’t stick up for ourselves by hitting people!”

“You do!”  She stomped her foot.  “You’re a knight!”

“Only if the other person tries to hit me first.  Go to your room.”

“You’re no fair!” she shrieked.  She took a deep breath to lodge another protest, but then took a look at Leblanc’s face and scampered away.  

Yuri was certain she was going to get a scolding later tonight, but for now it was his turn.  Leblanc loomed over him, moustache bristling with fury.  “Yuri Lowell!  I specifically told you not to teach my daughter any questionable things!”

“Careful.  There might be someone in Tolbyccia who didn’t hear you yell that I’m in your house.”

This succeeded in lowering Leblanc’s voice, but only just.  “What do you have to say for yourself!?  I take you into my home, I protect you from the gallows, and you repay me by corrupting my daughter with your criminal ways?!”

Yuri leaned back in the chair and let the words wash over him.  There really was no point in arguing about this.  He watched raindrops race to the windowsill as Leblanc continued his tirade, and was thankfully saved by a knock at the door.  Leblanc froze, then grabbed Yuri.  “Quick, you have to-”

“Hide in the closet, yes, I know.”

Yuri squashed in among the coats in the front hall.  Peering through the crack, he saw Leblanc open the front door and a knight uniform on the step.  For a second, he was afraid the Butcher had struck again, but then he realized it was unlikely they’d find the body in the evening, considering he always attacked at night.  

“Good evening, Captain,” Leblanc said.  “What can I do for you?”

“Sorry to bother you at home, Lieutenant.”  Chapman had to speak loudly to be heard over the drumming of water on the street.  “The public quarter station is going to be closed tomorrow.  Seems the roof’s been leaking for a while and all this rain caused a whole mouldy section to collapse.  I wanted to pick up the arrest reports from you since I won’t be in the office tomorrow.”

“Right away, sir.”

While Leblanc hurried off to get the requested papers, Yuri tried to reposition a jacket that was dripping on him without making any noise.  He didn’t have much luck, because he’d finally manoeuvred the sleeve behind him, only to feel a new wetness on his cheek from the lapel of another coat.  

Leblanc returned and passed the stack of papers over.  “Here you are, sir.  And, er, about the late forms last week….”

Chapman waved his hand.  “Not a problem, not a problem.  My fault for not being home when I said I would be. But actually… Lieutenant, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about something.”

“Sir?”

“It’s that I….”  Chapman frowned and shuffled the papers.  “I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, but it’s come back to me that you’ve been, er, asking around.  About the commandant.”

“Sir.”

“Things like, if anyone else thinks he’s acting strange, if anyone knows where he was the knight Lady Avondale was killed, that sort of thing.”

“That… is true, sir.”

“Why?  Who authorized you to investigate the commandant?”

Yuri heard armour clink as Leblanc shifted nervously.  “Nobody, ah, directly ordered me to, sir.  I took it upon myself to look into rumours.”

“Does this have anything to do with that story the convict Lowell was spouting?  Something about, oh, evil twins and alternate universes or some such nonsense?”

“Yes… sir….  I thought it sounded preposterous, but I felt that it was my duty as a knight to look into any case brought in by a civilian, if only to pacify them that it’s being taken care of.”

“Well, stop.  I don’t want to see any knights branching off on their own or sowing discord within the Knighthood.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Besides, I can assure you beyond any doubt that Commandant Flynn had nothing to do with the death of poor Lenore Avondale.”

“Is that so, sir?”

“Yes.  I ran into him while we were both walking home that evening.  We stopped at a coffee shop and discussed matters of the Knighthood for some time and then walked together back to his house.  According to the report, Lady Avondale was killed during the time I was with him.  He clearly had nothing to do with it, so you should put this matter to rest and focus on your official duties.”

“Yes, sir.  I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s quite alright.  I do like to see a knight with initiative.  Thank you for the forms, Leblanc.”

When Chapman had retreated into the deluge, Leblanc turned around to face Yuri, now out of the closet.  Yuri said, “Interesting.”

Leblanc rubbed his chin.  “Do you suppose he left the house afterwards and went back?  Time of death estimations are not exact.”

“It’s possible.  Hard to say.”  He’d been certain Flynn killed Lenore, so he wasn’t ready to abandon that idea just yet.  For now, he shook his head.  “We need more information to say for sure.  There isn’t anything else to do right now, so I’m going to the lower quarter.”

“What do you expect to find in this storm?”

“Nothing.  I’m just worried about all these reports of flooding and storm damage.  I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”  Yuri borrowed a coat from the closet, awkwardly guided his arm through the sleeve, and then pulled the hood as tight as possible over his head.  “See you later.”  

* * *

 

Even from his basement cell, Flynn could hear the rain pouring onto the city.  He shivered, pulled his legs tight, and tried to ignore the distant pounding. This wasn’t too hard, when he was so busy concentrating on how hungry and parched he was because he hadn’t seen his jailer in two days.  His arm ached from spending tedious hours scraping away at the brick, and still he’d barely made a dent.  

And then there was Yuri.  Was he dead?  He wanted to believe no, but he couldn’t be sure.  His doppelgänger hadn’t mentioned Yuri in a week, and Flynn wanted to believe that this meant Yuri, being a crafty bastard, had managed to slip away and avoid the noose.  Surely the other Flynn would have gloated to him about it… right?  He tried to consider whether he himself would gloat in that circumstance.  He didn’t think he would, but then he didn’t think he’d take pleasure in having someone executed in the first place.  He wasn’t like that.  Although… when he lay awake at night, hope draining away, and convinced himself that Yuri was probably dead, he couldn’t help but think of revenge.  Imagining his doppelgänger smirking as Yuri dropped from the gallows lit a flame in his chest that raged for vengeance.  His counterpart actually had witnessed such a sight; who could blame him for going a little mad?

Yuri had to be alive. Believing that was the only thing that kept Flynn from despairing as his days in captivity tallied up.  Yuri was out there, looking for him, and trying to get this all sorted out.  The alternative was unthinkable.  

He was distracted from his thoughts of Yuri by a burbling.  Flynn frowned at the sound, which seemed to be coming from down the hallway beyond his cell.  He ventured as far to the bars as he could reach and peered through the darkness.  It was hard to see, but he could make out a glimmer highlights of water about twenty feet from his cell.  Flynn tried to recall the layout as he’d seen it in better light, and he was pretty sure that was about where a drain was located.  With a sinking feeling, he remembered his first inspection of this prison, and his concerns that in a serious enough storm, the river next door might overflow and fill the storm drains, causing all the water to escape through any available opening.  That was happening now, and water was pouring up through the drain.  It would continue to do so until the storm drain began to empty out, which wouldn’t happen until the rain slowed.  

The important question was, would that happen before the prison basement filled with water past his head?

* * *

 

Yuri hunched his shoulders against the wind on his way back to Leblanc’s place.  He’d spent the evening piling up sandbags along the river in front of the Comet, and moving everything they could off the floors or to the second storey in case that didn’t work.  A few leaks had appeared, sending him running around emptying pots as they filled with water.  They had secured the inn as well as they could, so Yuri opted to head back to Leblanc’s.  He didn’t want to still be there in case knights showed up first thing in the morning to check on potential damage.  

The rain came down hard, but there was no accompanying thunder or lightning, so he wasn’t worried about getting hurt on the walk.  It felt more like walking through an endless cold shower than individual drops, and the runoff couldn’t leave the streets fast enough.  This meant the entire road was one big puddle, and his old boots quickly proved they weren’t as waterproof as they used to be.  Leblanc’s trench coat was good at keeping water out, but he was a lot skinnier than its owner so it was too roomy around the shoulders, letting water leak down his neck.  His arm throbbed from using it too much this evening, and he was pretty sure Estelle would have some things to say about letting stitches get soaking wet.  

It must be past midnight by now.  The only light came from the few candles in windows, so it was lucky that Yuri’s feet knew the roads of the lower quarter without input from his eyes.  He was about two blocks from the river now, heading toward one of the staircases that would take him up to a quieter street of the public quarter, closer to Leblanc’s place.  Throughout the walk, he thought about Flynn.  He’d been too busy running around at the Comet earlier, but now there was nothing else to pay attention to besides rain.  Perhaps Chapman was right and the impostor really didn’t have anything to do with Lenore’s murder.  Was that likely? No, it wasn’t.  If Flynn didn’t do it, that meant an entirely different person had killed her coincidently after she’d threatened Flynn.  Who else would -

A hand grasped his elbow and yanked back while at the same time, metal snapped around his wrist.  His right arm was twisted behind his back and he was shoved into a brick wall.  His forehead thudded against the brick and his vision spun.  It only took a moment to regain his wits, but during that time, the other end of a handcuff clicked around a belt loop on his back. Furious, Yuri lashed his foot back to stamp on his attacker’s instep.  He missed and a hand grasped his hair, yanking his head back.  Off-balance, he crashed into the man’s chest.  When he opened his mouth, a rag was shoved deep into his mouth.  The attacker pulled him from the wall, twisted, and shoved.  Yuri took two stumbling steps down a narrow alley between shops before falling into a puddle.  The whole thing took less than ten seconds to happen. 

He had a few seconds to think as footsteps approached.  First, a split second to let his injured arm scream at being thrashed against the ground.  Second, fury at himself for letting someone sneak up on him, even if the muffling rain was a good excuse.  Third, the knowledge that he was now handcuffed and gagged in a side alley, and he was certain he knew who his assailant was.  

There was no time for a fourth (which would have been a lament at not carrying a weapon) because the Butcher was on him.  Yuri had enough time to get to his knees, but then the Butcher grabbed him around the neck and pulled him the rest of the way up.  Yuri twisted, and since his neck was slick with rain he got out of the Butcher’s grip.  The important thing was to get his arm free of the cuff so he could kick this bastard’s ass for all the suffering he’d caused - and also save his own neck, while he was at it - but the rain made the knot of the belt tight and the fingers of his bandaged arm struggled to undo it one-handed.  

The Butcher grabbed him by the lapels and slammed him against the wall.  The cuff bit into his wrist and Yuri coughed into the gag.  He thought he could work it out of his mouth with enough tongue wiggling, but he had more pressing concerns than speaking at the moment.  The Butcher wrapped a hand around Yuri’s neck, squeezing just enough to be uncomfortable.  The other wasn’t visible in the darkness, but Yuri suspected it was reaching for a knife.

“I know you,” the Butcher said.  Yes, good, he was in a talking mood.  “You’re the commandant’s friend.  Yura Lovell?”

Yuri made an indigent sound through the gag.  

“Interesting.  I wonder, boy, have you even realized what’s going on with him?”

Yuri raised his eyebrows.  The hell?  What did the Butcher know about any of this?

“I suppose you haven’t.  Astuteness has never been a trait common in peasants.”

Yuri only half paid attention.  The rest of his mind was racing with options.  What it kept coming back to was the fact that the Butcher obviously thought his left arm was unusable, since he’d put no effort into restraining it.  The supposed disability was probably why he’d been targeted in the first place.  However, Yuri was still fully capable of using that arm; it would just hurt like a bitch.  He reckoned he could get one solid punch before the pain made any subsequent punches useless.  One punch wouldn’t do much, though, because the Butcher still had a knife.  What he really needed was to get that knife, but he’d have to wait for it to be closer to his reach because the sling limited his arm’s mobility.  

“Ah, well.  The lower rabble has always been limited in their contributions to society.” His arm moved, bringing a knife toward Yuri’s stomach.  “All pigs have their uses, though. If I see the commandant again, I’ll be sure to tell him hello for you.”

Yuri briefly imagined his insides strewn across the ground and tensed.  Surprise was the only advantage he had, and it would only work once.  When the tip of the knife was less than an inch from his abdomen, his hand shot forward.  Yuri’s fingers clenched around the Butcher’s wrist and twisted.  The gash on his arm screamed as he wrenched the man’s hand around, forcing the knife to fall to the ground.  Yuri lunged forward.  He pushed his arm out of the sling and smashed his fist into the Butcher’s chin.  Spikes of pain radiated up and down his arm, but not thick enough to mask the bonus flashes of pain as stitches tore.  His toe collided with the hilt of the knife and he heard it splash as he accidentally kicked it out of sight.  The Butcher stumbled back, cursing.

But he’d used his one good punch.  He could barely feel his fingers as they fumbled with the tie around waist and tried to get the coat off.  It took two seconds to realize that was never going to work, and half of another one to decide running like hell was his best option.  He made it about three steps.  His arm cuffed behind him threw off his balance, the uneven street had half-turned into a river, and the Butch made a grab for him and snagged the collar of his coat. He yanked and Yuri tried to swing around to maintain his balance.  On instinct, he threw his arm up to catch himself against the wall, but when his injured arm hit the brick it crumpled with a burst of agony.  He fell crooked and landed on his hip with a splash. A boot thudded into his back before he could even start getting up, and then the Butcher shoved him forward onto his chest.  

The Butcher dropped to the ground.  One foot crushed Yuri’s left wrist into the street, the other knee slammed into Yuri’s back.  He spluttered into a puddle that practically drowned him.  Yuri began lifting his torso to try to throw him off, but then a strip of material bit into his throat.  The world narrowed.  A knot had been tied in the fabric, which now pressed directly against his windpipe.  The more ragged his breaths came, the faster his heart raced.   His brain screamed for escape but his arm was too weak to squirm out of the foot holding it down.  His whole body twisted and his legs kicked, but with every passing second, his strength ebbed away.   _ Throw him off!  Fight! Breathe! _

But even now, shadows crept into the edges of his vision.  

* * *

 

Blood dripped down Flynn’s ankle.  He was sure he’d lost weight during his captivity; perhaps it would be enough to wiggle this shackle off his foot.  His shoe sat discarded on the bench next to him as he twisted the cuff around the top of his foot.  Its edge bit into his heel and rubbed his ankles raw.  He pointed his toes and tried to squeeze the cuff past his heel, but he didn’t think he could do it without cutting his whole foot off.  That wasn’t an option because he didn’t have anything like a blade to do the job.  He’d already looked.

The other leg sat in the water.  It had almost reached his knee in just under an hour.  That meant he had roughly 5 hours before it reached the ceiling, and a little over four before it went over his head.  If he got this shackle off, he’d buy himself a little extra time by being able to swim higher than the length of the chain.  Still, if the water hit the ceiling and he couldn’t get through the barred door, he was going to drown either way.  

 


	13. Rising Water

Wind whistled past them at the top of the world.  Flynn stood near the edge of the platform and watched the crests of waves hundreds of feet below.  Had any other human ever been this high?  They’d been working toward this for years, and they were finally on the cusp of retaking control of the world.  When they unlocked the shrine’s power, everything would be worth it.  Surely Princess Estellise would be happy to see the Empire flourish and she would accept that her death had been necessary.  Captain Schwann, too, would understand why he’d had to be killed to ensure he didn’t interfere with their prosperity.   Flynn repeatedly told himself this, and he was even starting to believe it.

“Flynn.”  Alexei’s voice was nearly swallowed by the wind.  “Come here.  It’s complete.”

Stomach tingling with anticipation, Flynn crossed the platform to join Alexei before the towering blastia core.  Even from several feet away, he could feel the energy rippling off it like an electric field.  “You’ve finished analyzing the controls?”

“I have.”  Alexei was unable to keep a smile off his face.  “These years of preparation have gone more smoothly than I could have hoped thanks to you, Flynn.”

“Thank you, sir.  I’ve only been doing my duty.”

“And you never expected any accolades for it.  That’s what I respect so much, and it’s part of why I’ve decided that you will be my successor as commandant.”

Flynn’s head shot around.  “I - w-what?”

“Once we have taken care of the Council, I will position myself as the new emperor.  I’ve already arranged with the rest of the captains that you are to become commandant in my place and command the Knighthood as my right hand.”

“But… sir, surely there are other captains more qualified.  I’m still so young.”

“They may have more notches on their belts, but you have something they can’t hope for: my unconditional trust. Of all my captains, I trust you above any others to maintain my vision for the Knighthood.”

“Even still, sir… there’s so much I don’t know.  I don’t think I’m ready.”

Alexei rested a hand on Flynn’s shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “You will do fine, Flynn.  And don’t forget, you won’t be alone.  The Knighthood will work closely with the government to maintain control.  Whenever you need guidance, I will be right there.”

Flynn met Alexei’s eyes and looked to him the way he’d never thought he’d look at someone again after his parents died.  “Thank you, sir.  I really am honoured.  I won’t give you any reason to doubt your trust.”

“I’m sure of it.  Now then, let us witness together the might of Zaude.  You may wish to stand back for this.”

Flynn retreated to give Alexei a wide berth.  Alexei held out his sword, the replica of Dein Nomos, and red light swirled around him.  Flynn had to look away as Alexei’s hair whipped in the energy field.  It died down in seconds, and then the platform was still.  

“Did it work?”  Flynn looked around, expecting something to happen.

Alexei smiled at him and held up a hand.  “Patience, Flynn.”  As he finished speaking, the enormous blastia core that drifted above them burst with light.  Flynn took a few more steps back and squinted against the light.  The hairs along his arms stood up as energy buzzed in the air.  With a burst of light that nearly blinded him, a pillar shot into the sky.  Flynn gaped at the clouds, his mind racing with the possibilities of a weapon so breathtaking.  

“It’s amazing.”  He wasn’t sure if Alexei even heard him over the wind and the rumbling.  “With this, we’ll - what’s that?”  Like a rip in a shirt, darkness spread across the sky.  The black sore on the heavens expanded and then the darkness began to take on a shape.  Something was moving in there.  “Sir?  Is… is this supposed to happen?”

Alexei was staring at the mass pushing its way into their world.  Flynn had never seen him so rattled and the expression shocked him. Flynn edged closer to Alexei.  

The hole spread wider and the dark, writhing mass - the size of a continent, at least - sank out of the hole.  Tendrils of purple smoke, at least a mile in diameter, swirled around it.  

Flynn licked his lips.  “Sir? This is supposed to happen… right?”

Alexei made a small noise in his throat.  Flynn’s heart throbbed; this was  _ not  _ supposed to happen.  

When Alexei finally found his voice, he said, “This is the power of Zaude?  No… but I thought….  This cannot be!”

As he watched, the black shape began to spread.  Long arms of distortion and darkness spread across the sky.  “What is it, sir?  What have we created?”

Alexei let out a long breath and then shook his head.  “No… we didn’t create this. This catastrophe as always awaited us.  You and I were simply the fools to open the box.”

“I don’t understand.  What is going to do?  Can we use the power of Zaude against it?”

Alexei pressed a hand to his forehead.  “No.  Don’t you see?  Zaude… it wasn’t a weapon at all.  This catastrophe was sealed away in a space just beyond the fabric of our universe.  We’ve punctured a hole in that fabric and allowed it to return and spread the ruin it once rained down upon the ancients.”

The blastia above them crackled with light, but Alexei appeared not to notice.  “Sir!  I don’t understand.  We have to do something about this.”

Alexei shook his head.  “There’s nothing we can do!  We were never more than worms writhing before an approaching storm!”

Alexei’s attitude was starting to scare Flynn as much as the monstrosity in the sky.  The shaking of the blastia above him was almost as disconcerting.  “We need to get out of here.  Whatever that thing is, we can’t fix it if we just stand here.”

Alexei lifted his head and saw the flashes of light dancing around the blastia.  “To think that I was the one to destroy the world.  That’s the greatest irony of all.”  He turned to Flynn and, without a word, shoved him with enough force to send Flynn staggering backward.  Flynn fell to the ground at the same time the blastia rumbled enough to make the whole platform shake, and then crashed to the ground.  

Shattered rock flew into Flynn’s face and dust enveloped him.  The ground shook and the idea that the whole platform was about to crash into the sea petrified him.  He didn’t dare move until the dust began to settle and he realized he wasn’t about to die.  

Flynn coughed on the dust.  “S-Sir?”  He coughed a few more times and then pushed himself to his knees.  “Sir!”  Blinking away specks of rock and blastia, Flynn got to his feet.  The platform was strewn with the shattered remains of the blastia and crushed stone from the ground that had been blasted out.  Flynn rubbed his eyes and squinted through the dust.  “Alexei?!”  He took a few shaking steps, nearly tripping over a chunk of rock.  

Then he saw the hand.  In the centre of the platform, the largest chunks of blastia sat in a heap.  Stick out from under one of them was a motionless hand, streaked with blood.  Flynn felt sick.    “Alexei!”  He ran forward, determined to pull him from the rubble.  “I’ll get you out.  We’ll fix this!”  He dropped to his knees next to the rubble and grabbed the edge of a boulder of green crystal.  His arms shook but he could barely shift it.  “Hold on… hold on… I’ll save you….” 

But there was no sound from the pile and the hand still hadn’t moved.  Flynn grabbed it, squeezed it, said, “Just hold on.  Please.”  When he let go, it flopped to the ground.  Unable to continue denying reality, Flynn screamed.  He was just a boy in a blood-streaked alley, staining his knees in blood.  Everything that had happened since that night seemed like a dream, because here he was again, feeling just as helpless and just as devastated.  

“Why?!”  Flynn bent over and pressed his face into his hands.  “Why… why?!”  First his father… then his mother… Yuri… Schwann… Alexei… he couldn’t take it anymore!  Why did everyone he ever cared about have to leave him?! Why couldn’t  _ anything  _ ever go right for him?  The catastrophe stretching across the sky mocked him.  As if he needed more proof that the universe was cursed.

* * *

 

Yuri’s consciousness faded. His efforts to fight back grew weaker and weaker the longer the cord cut off his air. The Butcher pressed his hand against the back of Yuri’s head so he would have been breathing water from the puddle even if he could draw breath. Over the rain and the rushing in his ears, he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until they were only a foot away.

The Butcher didn’t notice the newcomer either. There was a thud and then the material around Yuri’s neck loosened and he sucked in air so fast, half of it was rain. The weight left his back and he sprang up, but after being deprived of oxygen for so long, his head immediately spun in circles and he dropped back down. Just beside him, the shadowed figures brawled in the street. One of them landed a blow to the other’s stomach that even sounded painful, and when the struck one keeled over, the other leapt up and bolted down the alley.

“Bastard!” Flynn clutched his stomach as he got to his feet. He took off so fast that his feet splashed muddy water into Yuri’s face. 

Yuri listened to Flynn’s footsteps get swallowed by the pounding rain. He was still kneeling in a puddle, rubbing his throat and catching his breath. When he was sure he could breathe, he moved his aching arm to the strip of cloth tied around his waist and worked on undoing the knot. The spots of warmth on his arm weren’t comforting because they meant the wound had been ripped open to begin bleeding again. It took over a minute of finagling to get the knot loose, and then he was finally able to wiggle out of the coat. It was still handcuffed to his wrist, but he could deal with that. 

Yuri picked up the strip of cloth that had been used to strangle him.  He ran his thumb over the knot in the centre.  He was certain it was a clue that the Butcher had a secondary method of killing, but at the moment, he was too frazzled from his brush with asphyxiation  to deliberate it.  All the brain cells available for analysis were caught up in considering something the Butcher had said.

_ “If I see the commandant again, I’ll be sure to tell him hello for you.” _

See the commandant  _ again _ .  Before that, he’d asked if Yuri even knew what was going on with Flynn.  That must mean the Butcher knew that the current commandant was an impostor, and it sounded like the Butcher had seen the real Flynn.  Yuri highly doubted the Butcher had broken into the commandant’s house, because real Flynn would have mentioned if anyone else had found him before Yuri’s break in, which meant that the Butcher had stumbled upon Flynn’s prison after he’d been moved - and therefore, the Butcher could tell Yuri where Flynn was.

He had just gotten to his feet when footsteps returned and a silhouette emerged through the rain. Yuri braced himself for a rematch, but it was Flynn who had returned, not the Butcher. That was only a comfort for a second, because then Flynn threw a punch at him.

“Whoa, easy!” Yuri held up the bundle of coat like a shield. The words rasped out of his throat and made him cough.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Flynn shouted. The rain plastered his hair to his face and dripped down his cheeks, but Yuri was surprised it wasn’t steaming off of him. “Are you just desperate to be murdered?” He shoved Yuri into the wall. “If I hadn’t been so distracted by you, I would have been able to catch him!”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault he outran you?” Yuri shifted the coat under his arm so he could massage his wound. 

“Well you certainly didn’t help!”

Yuri coughed a few more times. “I’m  _ so  _ sorry.  I was a little busy being strangled to death.”

Flynn breathed out heavily through his nose and turned away.  “Serves you right.  You were supposed to hang last week.”

It was lucky, Yuri thought, that Flynn had attacked the Butcher right away rather than waiting to let him finish the job.  For all Flynn talked of wanting him dead, Yuri wondered if there was still a piece of the original Flynn inside this distorted version.  He cleared his throat.  “Sure.  Hang for a crime you committed.”

“For the last time, I didn’t kill Lady Avondale!”

And for the first, Yuri believed it.  A memory came back to him of his brief conversation with his own Flynn.  He had almost escaped, Flynn had said.  He got free and had a fight with the impostor.  When had that been?  Flynn hadn’t been able to be specific, Yuri was willing to bet it had been the very night Lenore was killed.  The bruise Yuri had seen Flynn trying to hide and refusing to explain hadn’t been delivered by Lenore; it had been Flynn.  

“Well… I sure as hell didn’t, either.”  He rubbed his throat, which was certainly going to be badly bruised.  “And I hope I find out who did.  Strangling is not a pretty way to go.”

“Why did the Butcher strangle you?”  Flynn turned back to inspect Yuri’s neck with a frown.  He sounded more intrigued than concerned, but he wasn’t actively trying to harm Yuri, so he’d take what he could get.  “Every person he’s killed, in this streak and the last, has had the same pattern of evisceration.”

“He tried that on me, but I got the drop on him.  Kicked his knife away.”  Yuri gestured into the shadows.  “It’s on the ground over there somewhere.  I guess this is his backup plan.”  

“Yes… it must have been a plan.  He wouldn’t have had time to prepare a garrote on the spot.  He must always carry it with him as an emergency measure, just in case.”

Yuri swallowed heavily around his swollen throat.  He’d thought that Flynn killed Lenore, so he’d put those pieces of the jigsaw aside, thinking them properly connected.  Now, though, he’d realized he’d gotten the pieces wrong and there was an empty slot where the role of Lenore’s killer went.  “Do you think…”  Yuri coughed and tried again.  “Do you think it’s a coincidence that Lenore was killed just before the Butcher began his new reign of terror?”

Flynn’s eyebrows lifted.  “It’s possible… but it is a considerable coincidence that not only did she die just before he began killing again, but also that the way she was killed is now proven to be in the Butcher’s arsenal.”

Yuri shook his head.  “It doesn’t make sense.  All his other victims were from the lower quarter; she’s a noble.  There was no sign of handcuffs or knife wounds of any kind on the body.”

“It is weird.”  Flynn rubbed his chin with a nod.  “If the Butcher was the one who killed her, he didn’t follow his usual pattern for her.  Why was she so special?”

Yuri wracked his brain to consider everything he knew about murderers and criminals.  “Could be that the Butcher wasn’t planning to restart his old hobby until after he killed her.  He killed her, and that reminded him of how much fun he’d had back in the day.”

“Yes that would make sense.  But why kill her?  Unlike his other victims, he’d have to have a reason.”

“It must be someone she knew.  Who-” Understanding struck him.

Based on Flynn’s sudden intake of breath, he’d reached a conclusion as well.  “Her husband.”

“It’s always the fucking husband!”  Yuri smacked his forehead.  “Shit!  I met the guy!  He was asking me about how the case was going and I actually thought he was just looking for closure!  The bastard was trying to see if you were on to him.”

“The handcuffs he’s been using come from his prison.  That model of cuffs is usually only used by Knights, but the prison system is closely tied to us and use the same regulation materials.”

“No wonder Lady Avondale was so eager to get the prison re-opened.”  Yuri recalled with a grimace how desperate Lenore had been acting the day he met her. Of course she considered re-opening the prison to be of paramount importance if she thought her husband was growing dangerous in the wake of its closure.  “She must have noticed a change in her husband’s attitude after he lost his livelihood.  You shut down his fun house so now he’s taking it out on random people.”

“ _ I _ didn’t shut it down.”

In that moment, they remembered they were supposed to be enemies.  Their gazes met and for five full seconds, nothing moved but the rain.  

Flynn said, “I’m going to kill him.”

Yuri said, “I need to talk to him.”

They bolted.  There was no time to fight each other when the Butcher - Lord Avondale - awaited.  Yuri sprinted up the street, struggling to breathe.  Did Flynn know the Avondales’ address off-hand?  Yuri had to get back to Leblanc’s house and get the address from him.  If Flynn reached the house first, he would barge in and kill Avondale without hesitation, destroying the only person who could tell Yuri where to find Flynn.  Yuri wanted nothing more than to see the Butcher put down like a rabid dog, but that couldn’t happen until after he had a chance to talk to him.

Yuri burst into Leblanc’s house and immediately shouted, “Leblanc!  Leblanc, where does Avondale live!?”

He slumped against the wall and held his arms against this stomach, one hand holding his bleeding forearm, while that one held the stitch in his side, the bundled up rain coat still handcuffed to his wrist and tucked under his arm.  

Footsteps thundered downstairs.  “What in the blazes is going on?”

Charlotte was right behind him, and she immediately pushed past her husband to hurry to Yuri’s side.  “Yuri, dear, what happened?  Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Yuri panted.  “Where does Avondale live?”

Leblanc was about to speak when Julia popped up behind him on the stairs.  “What’s going on?”

Leblanc grabbed her arm before she could run to Yuri.  “Nothing.  Go back to bed.”

“I need to know where Avondale lives!”  Yuri heaved for another breath.  “He’s the Butcher.”

“He what?” 

“Avondale’s the Butcher. He killed his wife. He knows where Flynn is. Impostor Flynn’s on his way to kill him.  Where does he live!?”

Leblanc processed this in about one second, and then he ran to the closet.  “I know the house.  I’ll take you there.”

* * *

 

The Avondale manor was in the royal quarter, a few blocks away from the castle. A low brick wall topped with wrought-iron fencing enclosed a front garden filled with flower beds, neatly trimmed hedges, and a fountain that looked rather redundant in the downpour.  There were no lights on in the house, but the front door hung open.

“He’s already here.  Dammit.”

“You go in.  I’m going to get back-up.  The plan is to arrest two people, after all.  We need support to take them in.  I’ll be back in no more than ten minutes.”

“Sure.”  Yuri hadn’t particularly wanted Leblanc’s help in taking down Flynn in the first place.  Without wasting any more time, he dashed up the path to the open door.  Wet footprints on hardwood floors told him where to go.  

Yuri crept through the house, sword borrowed by Leblanc in hand.  He had it in his right, which wasn’t optimal, but his left was still too weak to wield anything effectively.  Charlotte had offered to fix up the stitching, bandage, and sling, but here hadn’t been time.  It now hung loose, because he didn’t want the sling to restrict his movement.  It already needed to be re-stitched, so he didn’t care how much worse he got it now.  

Yuri found the footsteps leading up a curving staircase just as a shout came from above: “No! Please!”

The time for creeping was past.  He dashed up the stairs and this time followed the sounds of commotion from down the hall.  A door hung open at the end and soft candle light spilled onto the hardwood floors.  

“Get back!”  

Yuri almost didn’t recognize the Butcher’s voice.  In the alley, it had been full of arrogance and slime.  Now, it reeked of cowardice.  Yuri ran down the hall and swerved into the room.  He took in the scene in a flash: Avondale on his knees, cowering near the bed; Flynn standing over him with sword raised.  Yuri grabbed a porcelain vase off a dresser by the door and chucked it at Flynn as hard as he could.  

He’d thrown with his injured arm, which was his excuse for why it sailed wonkily through the air and smashed into the wall instead of Flynn’s head.  Luckily, it succeeded in startling him out of his killing blow.  

“Yuri!” Flynn whipped around, fury on his face.  “Stay out of this!”

Yuri held out his sword and approached.  “Put down your sword, Flynn.  We’re taking Avondale alive.”

Flynn wrinkled his nose.  “This would be a new philosophy of yours, would it?”

“Put your sword down.”

Flynn shook his head.  “I’m going to kill this piece of refuse, and if you get in the way, I will kill you, too.”

Avondale jumped to his feet, grabbed a heavy book off the bedside table, and swung it at Flynn’s head.  Yuri ran forward at the same time and brought out his sword to stop Flynn’s responding blow.  Avondale dropped the book and backed away, and Yuri inserted himself between him and Flynn. 

“Get out of my way!” Spittle flew from Flynn’s mouth.  His sword swung again and it was all Yuri could do to play defense.  “Why are you protecting him?! He  _ murdered  _ you!”

That surprised Yuri enough that Flynn was able to slash at Yuri’s hand, grazing his knuckles and causing him to drop the sword. Flynn grabbed the front of Yuri’s shirt and shoved him to the ground.  Avondale pressed himself against the wall, hands raised, with nothing between him and Flynn’s fury.  

Yuri had inferred that the version of himself in this Flynn’s timeline had died when they were kids, but it was a shock to hear that he’d been killed by the Butcher.  Flynn’s fury took on a new context and Yuri felt an extra kick of disgust when he saw Avondale cowering against the wall.  He felt sick imagining what had almost happened tonight being done to him when he was still a kid.  The Butcher truly did not deserve to live, but he was also the only one who knew where the real Flynn was.  Because of that, Yuri threw himself at Flynn.

He tackled Flynn’s back and dragged him to the floor.  As they wrestled, Avondale glanced between them and the door and made a run for it.

“No!”  Flynn struggled to push Yuri off of him.  “He’s getting away!”

He was, but Yuri was doing something he hadn’t done in a long time: trusting the knights.  It had been about ten minutes since he’d arrived at the manor, so he had to trust that Leblanc was now arriving with back-up and could take care of apprehending Avondale.  

“Get off me! You don’t understand!”

Yuri drove his elbow into Flynn’s shoulder blades.  “Seems to me that if I’m the one he killed, then I should have the right to decide if he gets murdered.”

“It wasn’t you!” Flynn screamed.  “You’re not Yuri!  You could never be him!”  When Flynn twisted again to try to escape, Yuri realized he was crying.  “Yuri is  _ dead _ .  He was murdered and he’s gone forever, just like everyone else.  If you were really him, you would love me. You would support me.”

“I think I know myself better than you do.”  He spoke firmly, but gently.  Despite all the things this man had done to him and to others, he couldn’t help but see him as Flynn at the moment.  “If the Yuri you knew was alive today, I am certain he would not be supportive of the things you’ve done.”

Flynn didn’t have a response for that.  He just closed his eyes and half-heartedly tried to push Yuri off.  A minute later, the clank of feet announced the arrival of knights.  

“Yuri Lowell!” Leblanc was first into the room.  “James Avondale has been safely apprehended!”

“Great.  Help me out with this guy.”

“You heard him,” Leblanc said to the handful of knights behind him.  “Apprehend the impostor.”

“You mean Yuri Lowell?”

“No, the other one.”

“But, uh, sir…,” one of them said.  “That’s the commandant.”

Yuri, still gripping Flynn’s arms, pulled both of them to their feet.  “He’s not, actually.  And even if he was, he just tried to murder a suspect without trial.”

“Arrest him,” Leblanc said, louder this time.

The knights shuffled forward and reluctantly took Flynn from Yuri.  

“You’re making a mistake,” Flynn said as they snapped handcuffs on him.  “I’m Flynn! This-” he elbowed Yuri, “is the impostor.”

Leblanc walked forward.  “James Avondale has already offered to tell us where Flynn Scifo is being held captive in exchange for a reduced sentence.  Want to explain that if you’re up here?”

“He’s a murderer.  You can’t trust him.”

Leblanc waved his hand.  “Let’s work all this out back at the castle.  Yuri, you come, too.  You’re a fugitive, too, after all.”

Yuri took a step back as all the knights looked at him.  “No offense, but I’d just as soon not go back to the castle when there’s a noose waiting for me.”

“We’ll work that out.  The situation is confusing enough that there’s no way the sentence will be carried out until everything is settled, and once we prove this Flynn is an impostor, your case will get thrown out.  Trust me.”

Yuri had to admit, he did trust Leblanc.  It wasn’t that he was particularly impressed with the man, but Leblanc was sort of like a rock: not fun nor exciting, but not creative enough for deceit and too solid for corruption.  “You’d better know what you’re doing.”

* * *

 

Yuri sat in a small room in the castle.  Leblanc sat beside him, James Avondale sat across from them.  The Butcher was in handcuffs and sat stiffly, with his hands resting on the table.  They must have been here for over an hour.

“There is no possibility of you not going to prison.”  Yuri leaned forward and rested his head in his hand.  What time was it?  All the adrenaline from earlier tonight had sapped up a week’s worth of energy.  Bed called for him, but he wouldn’t go to sleep until Flynn was safe.  The other Flynn was locked in a sitting room with a guard out front, because they weren’t sure if they could put the commandant in jail with nothing but a convict’s word that he’d been trying to kill someone, but they couldn’t let him go free, just in case.  

“Then there is no possibility of you finding the commandant.”  Avondale leaned back in his chair.  

Yuri sighed and wished he could just punch the bastard in the face until he told them what they wanted to know.  They couldn’t, though, because that was the sort of thing the impostor Flynn did and they were trying to do this properly.  “This is a terrible decision on your part.  You already know that the guy in charge now wants to murder you.  The real Flynn will be all about treating you fairly and giving you a proper trial.  It’s in your own best interest to help us restore him to power.”

“I’m not stupid.   Flynn Scifo may be a soft-hearted fool, but the punishment for murder is execution.  A fair trial is meaningless if it still results in my death.”

“A-ha,” Leblanc said.  “You admit you’re guilty, then?”

Avondale smiled at him.  “I admit the trial will invariably find me guilty because they want to put a lid on this case.  I contend that two men barged into my house in the middle of the night and started screaming about me being the Backstreet Butcher.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.  “Ok, fine.  You don’t have to explicitly state you’re the Butcher, but can we just agree that everyone in this room knows the truth and stop dancing around the words.”  His throat hurt.  His eyes were heavy.  Flynn was somewhere in this city and the man in front of him knew where.  This was taking far too long. 

“I’ve told you my terms. I’ll tell you what I know about the whereabouts of Flynn Scifo in exchange for the assurance that my case will be settled out of court with a sentence no more extreme than house arrest.  It’s the least someone of my stature deserves.”

Leblanc, who had had a few hours of sleep before Yuri woke him up to go after Avondale, still had enough energy to shout.  “You listen here!  The Imperial Knighthood does not give preferential treatment to nobles! That was one of the first reforms Commandant Flynn enacted!”

Avondale and Leblanc continued to argue.  Yuri’s attention slipped.  He was so bored of this conversation.  Flynn’s ravings came back to him, especially the bit about how if he was really Yuri, he would love Flynn.That was preposterous, he thought, because he did love Flynn.  He loved the real Flynn as much as you could love another person.  Then he remembered the way the impostor Flynn had kissed him, and the fact that this Flynn clearly desired a different kind of love from him - or, from the Yuri he’d lost.  Did the real Flynn feel the same way?   To Yuri’s surprise, he didn’t find the idea off-putting.  Experimentally, Yuri imagined a scene where he found Flynn and pulled him out of whatever prison he was in.  In the dream, Yuri hugged him tightly and then pressed their lips together.  Rather than convincing him that this was clearly a terrible train of thought, he found he didn’t want to let the daydream end.  

_ Fuck.  I do. I want to kiss Flynn. _

This realization wasn’t as terrifying as it might have been.  After all, if the alternate universe Flynn wanted to kiss him… there was a good chance the real Flynn would be game for that too, right?  It stood to reason.  With that satisfying thought well in hand, he turned his attention back to Avondale.  

“Forget it,” Yuri said.  “It’s obvious this guy is just going to be difficult.  Throw him in a cell and I’ll keep looking for Flynn on my own.”  

As Yuri has hoped, this sparked a reaction from Avondale.  “No!  You’ll never find him without me.”

Yuri shrugged.  “Looks like we’re not going to find him with you, so I don’t see a point in dragging this out.  I’m sure I can find him eventually.”

Avondale sneered at him.  “He’ll be dead.”

Yuri’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t show it.  “Oh, yeah?  Why’s that?”

With a smug smile, Avondale said, “The location he’s in is probably partially underwater by now.  If this rain keeps up, he’ll have drowned by morning.”

Yuri’s stomach sank.  This was an even more dire situation than he’d thought.  “So sure, are you?”

“I’ve seen it happen.  The last time we had rain like this - years ago, you wouldn’t remember, boy - it completely flooded.  So go ahead and try to find him alone, as long as you’re content with finding a waterlogged corpse.  If you agree to my terms, though….”

Yuri stared straight at Avondale’s face and scanned it for any extra clues.  Sleepy wheels began to turn in his brain.  Flynn was somewhere that Avondale had been in the past week, but also somewhere that Avondale had been years ago.  It was at risk of flooding, so it was probably in a basement.  The lower in the city you went, the higher the risk of flooding, since all of Zaphias was built on a hill.  Why would a noble like Avondale have been in a basement in the lower parts of the city?  Somewhere that you could keep someone locked up, but was abandoned enough that no one else would find him.

Yuri snapped his fingers.  “He’s in the prison.  Your old prison that got shut down.”  

That panic on Avondale’s face confirmed it.  “N-no he’s not.  You don’t know that.”

Yuri abruptly left the table.  “Ok, then you can keep discussing this with Leblanc.  I’m going to go check out the prison.” 

He was already out the door before Avondale could keep protesting.  

  
  



	14. Storm

The world was dying.  Part of Flynn wondered why he was even trying so hard to save such a wretched place, but he had a responsibility.  Yuri would have wanted him to save it.  

He leaned against a wall in the Zaphias castle, taking deep breaths.  Just walking up to the top floor of the castle had nearly drained all his energy.  He fingered the blastia fastened to his chest, which was nearly too hot to touch from how much energy it expended trying to counteract the formula in place over Ilyccia.  According to Witcher, there was a powerful formula that sapped away the life of every person within its reach.  Flynn had tasked dozens of mages to try to stop it, but the best they could do was come up with single-use blastia that could protect one person, and only for a few hours.  Many mages had already succumbed  to the formula themselves, and those that remained had refocused their attention to saving lives in Tolbyccia and Desier.  After all, there was no one left alive in Ilyccia.  

Flynn had moved the Knighthood’s home base to Yurzorea.  The formula seemed to be spreading east, so he hoped that remote continent would be the last one to be hit.  If they only knew what was causing it!  The best theory was that it was a direct result of the Adephagos.  Alexei had only said it was an ancient catastrophe that would destroy the world, so maybe this steady draining of life was the first step.  The Krityan women they’d arrested didn’t seem to know much more about it, though at least she’d been able to give them the name Adephagos.  

Flynn closed his eyes and forced himself to take deep breaths.  He kept having to remind himself that it wasn’t literally the air that was toxic, and holding his breath wouldn’t keep him from being poisoned.  He wondered if any commandant in history had taken the reins in more dire a time, and seriously doubted it.  Even if commandants had taken over in the midst of war in the past, at least the world itself wasn’t on the brink of collapse.  It had been a terrible first few months in office, though he liked to think that he’d done the best he could to maintain control.

At least they didn’t have to worry about the Union anymore.  He’d reluctantly ordered the assassination of their leader, Don Whitehorse.  It was unfortunate, because he’d always respected the Don, but the guilds were so loosely organized that cutting off the head, coupled with the panic of the Adephagos in the sky, left so much chaos that a brigade of Knights were able to march into Dahngrest and bring it back until Imperial control.  Sodia had questioned the morality of the manoeuvre, but Flynn had already moved past the point of worrying about right and wrong.  All he cared about were results, and the result was a united Terca Lumireis that didn’t have to waste time squabbling about political disputes.

Flynn would have preferred Ioder to still be the emperor, though.  Having a civilian head of government, even if he was a figurehead, would have freed up some of Flynn’s time.  The fool had been honourable, though, and refused to evacuate Zaphias until the entire population of Ilyccia could be saved.  He’d died with the rest of them, like a captain going down with his ship, and left Flynn to step in and bring the entire government under command of the Knights.  At least the absolute control Flynn wielded meant he didn’t have to argue for approval from anyone else.  

The most important thing was to eliminate the Adephagos, which was what Flynn hoped to accomplish today.  He clutched a device in his hand that, if all went according to plan, would destroy the Adephagos.  Not exactly, but he wasn’t a mage and wasn’t sure he understand everything Witcher had explained.

“It works like punching a hole to release pressure,” Witcher had explained back in Yurzorea.  “It will open a hole in the edge of our reality and force the Adephagos to flow out.”

“How?” Flynn had been standing by the window in his makeshift office, staring at the monstrosity above them.

“It’s like osmosis.  It will punch into the void, which is much bigger and emptier than our universe.  The difference in pressure will cause the Adephagos to flow into the emptier universe, and out of ours.”

“And you’re sure it will work?”

Witcher had looked down and frowned.  “Well… not exactly.  I was just trying to finish the research done by Rita Mordio.”

“Who?”

“She’s a… well, was… a mage in Aspio.  She was the world’s leading expert in blastia.  After the Adephagos appeared, she was working on a way to get rid of it, but she died when the city was destroyed.  Refused to leave her experiment even when the city began shaking.”

“Unfortunate.  It sounds like she would have been useful.”

Flynn now looked at the device now in his hand.  It had better work.  The plan was to get to the top of the Sword Stair and release it.  To that end, he’d had the Krityan woman fly him to the heart of Zaphias on her monster companion.  She’d been arrested while trying to smash some Hermes blastia in use by the Knights, so Flynn didn’t feel too regretful over her fate.  There had only been one blastia that could counteract the life-sapping formula.  The woman agreed to drop him off in Zaphias in the hopes that he’d save the world, fully aware that she was unlikely to have time to make it back out of the formula’s range before it consumed her.  She was probably dead by now.  

With a deep breath, Flynn pushed himself off the wall and made his way through the doorway to the Sword Stair.  At least the entry was still unlocked from the last time he and Alexei had gone up there with the late princess, saving him the trouble of running around the castle to open it.  As he began the slow ascent of the Sword Stair, he looked out over the city.  He’d never known his hometown to be so quiet.  From up here, he couldn’t see the bodies that littered the houses down below.  You could almost mistake it for peaceful, and he wondered if maybe the world would be better of if the Adephagos succeeded in wiping them all out.  

He reached the top.  His legs shook and he struggled to keep from collapsing.  How much longer would his blastia keep the formula at bay?  If this didn’t work, would he have time to make it out of Ilyccia?  Probably not.  This was it, then.  Either he saved the world or died trying.  Flynn held the cylinder in both hands and took a long breath.  

“This is for you, Yuri.  I’m going to fix the world and make it a place you could have been happy to live.  And this is for you, too, Alexei.  I’ll fix your mistake and make sure it ultimately leads to a better tomorrow.  You won’t have died in vain.”  

He snapped the two sides open and light blasted out.  The cylinder almost escaped his grip so he tightened his grasp.  His arms shook and he was reminded horribly of the day Alexei had died atop Zaude.  His pillar of light pierced the clouds and the energy radiating from the cylinder made his fingers go numb.  Flynn looked to the heavens and for a minute, he really thought it was going to work.

Then the light expanded, the shaking got worse, and tendrils of lightning crackled along his body.  He tried to let go of the device, but he couldn’t release his grip.  Energy rushed through him and every muscle vibrated.  Pain sank into his temples and jaw from the pressure.  Far above, a point of pure black on the blue sky hinted that the device had been successful in punching a hole through the universe, but the translucent arms of the Adephagos appeared unperturbed.  

When Flynn looked back down at the device in his hands, he screamed.  Flakes of skin flew away from his hands, but he still couldn’t let go.  “Stop!  Wait!”  He could barely even hear himself over the rushing in his ears.  Something was going wrong, so very wrong.  The tips of his fingers were disintegrating, but it wasn’t bone left behind: it was nothing, pure nothing.  The specks of his body swirled into the light as more and more pieces eroded off his arms, his face, his clothing.  He felt like a sculpture of sand being torn apart by the wind.  Flynn screamed again and tried to run, only to look down and see himself floating.  His feet had been eaten by the light.  

“No!  Stop!”  Energy coursed through his body, battering him from the inside and out.  He could hear nothing over the rushing of wind and see nothing beyond the white light that engulfed him.  The disintegration sped up, and he finally released his grip on the device only because the light had eaten his hands and kept going, wiping away his arms.  Flynn screamed, thrashing against invisible bonds of light to escape, until he couldn’t scream anymore because his mouth had evaporated.  Then he could only pray for it to swallow the rest of him up and finally erase him from the world he’d wanted to escape since he was thirteen years old.

* * *

 

The rain had been annoying before, but now it was infuriating.  Every second it drenched him was a reminder that Flynn’s prison might be underwater by now.  He was exhausted, but started running nevertheless.  He was forced to turn it into a jog after his earlier sprinting across the city.  The prison wasn’t near his neighbourhood of the lower quarter, so it would be a longer route to get there.  Every time he ran beneath an overhanging roof he had a second to hope the rain was letting up, before running back into the wall of water and accepting that Flynn was still in danger.  By the time Yuri reached the prison, he could barely breathe.  Getting air through his swollen throat was difficult enough without winding himself for the third time that night.  He could worry about his own aches and pains later, though.  For now, he charged into the building and started looking for stairs to the basement.  

“Flynn?!”  Come on, he had to be right.  Flynn must be in this prison.  If only it wasn’t so damn dark.  Yuri couldn’t see a thing as he stumbled through the deserted corridors.  He was looking for a staircase, but with his luck, he’d find it by falling down it.  “Flynn!” His voice drifted through the empty building.  Yuri walked face-first into a door, swore, and then opened it.  He moved slowly, hands stretched out to find his way.  They hit a wooden surface, and a quick inspection proved it was a desk.  

Just as he was about to turn around, he got an idea and worked his way around it.  He pulled open drawer after drawer, fumbling to find the handles and then padding around inside to see what had been left behind when the prison was abandoned.  In the bottom drawer, he finally found what he’d been looking for: candles.  Anyone who might work at a desk after sundown would have a supply of candles now that blastia were gone; he was just thankful the prison hadn’t yet been thoroughly stripped of supplies left behind.  He also discovered a book of matches and wasted no time in lighting it.  Once the candle lit up the room, he snagged a small tin candle holder off the desk and resumed his search.  

Yuri had entered in the area with offices.  Flynn must be in the section with cells, and underground at that.  The level he was on was still dry, though rain still lashed the windows.  The air was chill and smelled of old dust.  Candlelight gleamed on dark red brick walls.  Ahead, a door of iron bars hung ajar.  When he moved beyond it, he found rows of prison cells not much larger than a closet.  “Flynn!”  

This time, he finally got a response.  A distant, “Here!” echoed through the cell block.  

He was alive! Yuri walked as fast as he could without blowing out the candle.  He kept his ears pricked for more sounds from Flynn, but what he heard instead was sloshing water.  At a T-intersection, he called out again and turned right toward Flynn’s answering shout.  At the end of this hallway was a closed door, but it didn’t have bars so it didn’t seem to be a cell.  Yuri threw it open and was met by the slosh of water.  His light gleamed on a pool that lapped halfway up the steps.  “Down here, Flynn?!”

“Yes!” came Flynn’s voice.  “Yes, I’m -” he gurgled and coughed.  “H-here!”

Yuri left the candle on the top of the stairs and splashed down into the basement.  The water sent daggers into his skin and goosebumps erupted down his arms.  Near the bottom of the stairs, he had to start swimming.  There was just over a foot of space between the top of the water and the ceiling, and it was still rising.  There were three cells on his left, and a closed door that was probably a storage room at the end.  He frog-stroked toward the splashing coming from the second cell down the row.  As he pulled up next to the bars, he saw Flynn’s head turned upward, struggling to stay above the water.  

“Flynn!”  Yuri grabbed the cell door and shook, but it was locked tight.  He braced his feet against the bars and pulled with all his might, but all he got were some groans and more pain in his arm.  

“It’s locked.”  Flynn’s arms spread back and forth through the water.  “You need a key, and another for the shackle on my foot.”

The news of a shackle made sense of Flynn’s position.  He couldn’t swim any higher to keep his head above the water because he’d already reached the limit of the chain.  It was lucky Yuri had arrived when he did, because Flynn’s mouth and nose would be underwater within about ten minutes, he reckoned.  

“Where’s the key?” Yuri asked.

Flynn sputtered water out of his mouth.  “Don’t know!  Might be in an office! They probably use the same keys for everything.”

“I’ll go find it.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  As Yuri started swimming away, part of him wondered if he should say something about the realization he’d had earlier.  After all, this might be the last time he saw -

He cut that thought off before it could finish. Out of the water, he picked up the candle and started running.  One hand shielded the flame from the breeze as he dashed back to the office where he’d found it.  It was the only office he knew the location of, and the owner had left behind candles so maybe they left behind keys?  He could hope.  

Back in the office, he set the candle on the desk and began the search.  His hands shook as he ripped drawers out of the desk and rifled through the contents.  Every second, the water crept higher and threatened to cover Flynn’s face.  It simply wouldn’t be fair that he’d finally realized he wants to kiss those lips only for them to turn cold and blue an hour later.  If Flynn drowned, it would be because of his double.  The rage that rose in response to that thought nearly eclipsed the fear.  That damned impostor was going to pay dearly if Flynn died.  A quick drop and a sudden stop would be too good for him; Yuri would want him to suffer.  Despite this rush of hatred, he also couldn’t stop a rush of sympathy.  Only hours ago, he’d held that Flynn back as he screamed and thrashed in his desperation to get revenge.  Considering what Yuri wanted to do if Flynn died, he couldn’t entirely blame him.  

Yuri found the keys in the last drawer he checked.  He picked up a simple brass ring with a handful of keys hanging from it.  Surely the ones he needed were on here somewhere.  There was no time to keep searching and hope he found something better, so Yuri hurried back to Flynn’s cell.  When he swam up to it again, the water played around Flynn’s lips and he breathed heavily through his nose.  

“Hold on.  One of these has to be the right one.”  He took a deep breath and dove down to the keyhole.  It was too dark to see underwater, so he had to feel around with his fingers and blindly shove a key into the lock.  Didn’t work.  He tried the next one, pushed it in, fiddled, and didn’t open the door.  Yuri pushed up and gulped in another breath before diving down to try again.  The next key slipped into the lock - and opened!  Yuri was so surprised at his success that he nearly dropped the keys into the dark depths.  Yuri heaved the iron door open against the water resistance and swam into the cell.  “Almost there.”

“The cuff is around -” Flynn choked on water - “my right ankle.”

“Save your breath.  I got this.”  Yuri breathed in and sank.  His free hand slid down Flynn’s torso to find his ankle in the dark, and then Flynn kicked him.  Yuri tried to find the ankle again, but his foot kicked and he lost it.  Yuri broke the surface and snapped, “Stop moving!”

“I’m sinking!”

Of course, the iron around his ankle was dragging him down.  Flynn was treading water as well as he could.  “I can’t get to your ankle if you keep moving.  Take a deep breath and sink with me.”

Flynn nodded and breathed in as much as he could without getting water in his lungs.  He fell still and sank to the bench a foot and a half below him.  It took half of his air just to find Flynn’s ankle, locate the keyhole on the shackle, and then fit the first of his key options into it.  This one was too large to even fit.  They both burst back to the surface with a gasp.  Yuri inspected the keys and quickly eliminated half of them on the basis of being the same size as the one he’d tried.  He was left with three small keys that might be the one he needed.  “Down again.”

Flynn followed him down.  Yuri moved faster this time since he knew where the keyhole was.  The head of the key still bumped the iron around the opening a few times before he successfully got it in.  It fit the hole, but refused to turn.  Frustrated, he returned to the surface.  

“Yuri,” Flynn panted, “if this is it - I want to say -”

“Shut up.”  Yuri dove again before Flynn could start telling him goodbye. The second small key worked as well as the first and he nearly threw the whole key ring in frustration.  He pulled the third key out, but his lungs strained for air so he pushed up and got another gasp.  This time, when Flynn surfaced he breathed in a noseful of water.  He gargled thrashed, but the water covered his face.  If Yuri didn’t move fast, he was going to drown a centimetre from air.  

He slammed the third key into the lock.  His heart pounded with the knowledge that if this didn’t work, he didn’t have time to find the right one before Flynn drowned.   _ Please, please, please, please… _

The key turned.  Yuri’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest as the lock clicked and the iron ring fell away.  Flynn shot up and heaved deep gulps of air.  Yuri surfaced more slowly and let the keys sink to the floor of the cell.  He started to ask if Flynn was ok, but then Flynn threw himself at Yuri and hugged him so tight they both began sinking again.  

“Let’s get out of here first,” Yuri said when he pried Flynn off.  

Yuri swam slowly to make sure Flynn stayed beside him.  His strokes were slow and weak, and Yuri wished he was strong enough to carry him.  Considering how exhausted he himself was, trying to carry Flynn would not be a good idea.  He wasn’t even the strongest swimmer at peak strength, considering he’d only learned to swim when in Knight training.  They made it back to the stairs, and finally Yuri was able to support Flynn.  He pulled his arm over his shoulders and dragged him up to the ground level, where they fell in a heap next to the candle.  

“Are you alright?”  Yuri pulled Flynn against his side as they leaned against the wall.

Flynn shivered and pressed close to Yuri to get as much of his warmth as he could.  “I’m not dead.”

Yuri inspected Flynn’s face and frowned at the bruises, swellings, and scabs.  He didn’t even want to know what he looked like under his shirt.  Yuri gently pushed Flynn’s soaked hair away from his eyes.  “You look miserable.”

“I’m starving.”  He shivered again and added, “And thirsty.  Haven’t seen anyone in days.”

Flynn may have survived, but the impostor was still going to get a fist to the face.

“I’ll get you back to the castle.  We’ve got the alternate you in custody, and the Butcher, too.”

“The what?”

“Oh, I guess you didn’t hear.  He’s the serial killer who gave me this.”  Yuri gestured at the bruising around his neck.  “No worries; we got him.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy.”  Flynn flopped his head onto Yuri’s shoulder.  

Yuri tightened his squeeze around Flynn’s shoulders.  “I’ll tell you all about it later.”  He turned his head down and pressed his lips against the top of Flynn’s head.  Flynn didn’t seem to mind.  “We can’t stay here.  Let’s get you to the castle.”

“Right.  Ok.”  Flynn didn’t move.

Yuri squeezed his shoulder.  “Come on.  There’s a nice soft bed waiting for you.”  Yuri got up and pulled Flynn after him.  Flynn wrapped an arm around him and leaned most of his weight on Yuri.  Slowly, they made their way out of the prison.  It was still pouring rain when they exited, but both of them were so thoroughly soaked that it hardly mattered.  After all the running around Yuri had done tonight, he relished the slow pace they struck.  He also enjoyed having Flynn next to him after nearly a month of worrying about him, even if Flynn’s breathing was laboured and he was obviously in pain. 

When they reached the castle, the knights on guard duty stepped out of the scant shelter provided by the gate to stop them.  “State your business.”

Yuri was about to answer, but Flynn lifted his head and spoke first.  “It’s me, Commandant Flynn.  Let us pass.”  Luckily his voice hadn’t changed, because if they could see his pale, sunken face through the dark and the rain they might have questioned his identity.  As it was, they jolted to attention and saluted before standing aside to let the pair up the steps.  Inside, they dripped puddles onto the castle’s shiny floors.

“My office is the other way,” Flynn mumbled as Yuri led him down a corridor.

“We’re not going to your office; we’re going to the infirmary.”

“Oh.  Good thinking.”

The next time they turned a corner, a knight was waiting for them.  Yuri sighed when he saw who it was.  “Good evening, Sodia.”

“Yuri Lowell!”  She reached for her sword.  “I don’t know why Lieutenant Leblanc let you leave earlier, but I won’t be making the same mistake!”

“At ease, Sodia.”  Flynn lifted his head again and tried to smile around his cracked lips.  “Yuri’s done nothing wrong.”

Sodia gaped at them.  “C-Commandant?!  You’re - but you….”

They were face to face with her now.  “I’m back,” Flynn said.  “Forgive me for not calling a meeting to debrief everyone right away.  I’m exhausted and we’re going to the infirmary.”

“Yes, of course.  But, the other you…”  Her eyes turned to Yuri.  “You were telling the truth?”

“I tend to do that, and yet people are always surprised.”`

“No matter.”  Flynn shook his head.  “We can deal with the impostor in the morning.”

They had started walking again when Sodia blurted, “No.”

Flynn gave her a confused look.  “What do you mean?”

Sodia clutched her hands together.  “I thought he was you!  I - I didn’t know the impossible story about body doubles was true! How was I to know?  I spoke with him and he told me Leblanc was attempting to overthrow him.  I didn’t know what to think, but I trusted him - I trust  _ you  _ \- more than Lieutenant Leblanc, so….”

“You let him go?!”  Yuri nearly dropped Flynn in his frustration.  “After everything he’s done?”

“He’s the commandant!  At least…”  Sodia hadn’t looked this wretched since she’d confronted Yuri after Zaude.  “I thought he was.”

“It’s all right.”  Flynn spoke in a voice Yuri recognized as trying to calm him down.  “We all know the situation now.  Send out knights looking for him. For now, let’s keep going to the infirmary.  I’m sorry, but I think I’m about to collapse.”

* * *

 

Yuri sat cross-legged at the foot of Flynn’s bed. He reached for the chocolate chip cookie on the tray on Flynn’s lap, but Flynn gave him a dark look.

“If you touch that cookie, I will cut off your hand.”

Yuri pulled it back. “You don’t even like cookies.”

“Yes I do.”

“Since when?”

“I’ve always liked cookies. You just assume that anyone who doesn’t want to eat twelve at once clearly doesn’t appreciate them.”

Yuri shrugged. He had yet to be convinced that this wasn’t true. “If you want it, why aren’t you eating it?”

Flynn stabbed his noodles with the fork. “I’m still eating lunch! Cookies are for desert.”

“You can eat cookies at any part of the meal, preferably as soon as possible.”

“You’re such a child.”

Yuri grinned at Flynn. He enjoyed teasing him after worrying about him for so long. They were still in the castle infirmary, where Flynn had spent the night. Yuri had crashed in a spare room at the castle, too exhausted to walk all the way home last night. According to the castle healers, Flynn would be alright. The worst of his injuries were bruises, coupled with the general weakness that happens to someone locked up and given hardly any food or water for a month. Over a month, in fact, though they couldn’t say just how long Flynn had been imprisoned. His perception of time had bled together, and without the other Flynn around to ask, no one could say for sure exactly when they switched. 

“Anyway,” Flynn said, “are you sure you got everything wrapped up with Avondale?”

Yuri nodded. He’d discussed it with Leblanc this morning before coming to visit Flynn. Leblanc had already spoken with Flynn and heard Flynn’s account of Avondale passing his cell on his way to the storage room to pick up a box of old handcuffs. “Everything is sorted out. The tweedles poked around his house this morning and found a case of knives with traces of human blood on them. With that, my recognition of his voice as being the same one that tried to kill me, the soaking wet coat in his closet even though he claimed to not have left the house last night… he realized he was in a corner. Since he knew there was no way out, I guess he wanted to gloat and went on some tirade about lower class people being lesser humans and how proper society would thank him for ridding the world of vermin.”

“What a disgusting man. Did he confess to killing his wife?”

“Accidentally. He went off on a tirade about how all of this was your fault because he would have been content if he was able to keep working, but then you fired him and he was stuck at home all day with ‘that harpy’. If she hadn’t pushed him into shutting her up he wouldn’t have gotten into the mood to pick up his old hobby, etcetera, etcetera. So the good news is, with the fake Flynn being proven as an impostor, his signature on my bogus confession form was thrown out. Now that it’s pretty obvious to everyone that James Avondale killed his wife, they’re going to quietly drop all charges against me and pretend they never made such a big screw up.”

“That’s good. I’m glad such a horrible man is finally off the streets.”

“The Butcher is taken care of, you’re back in the castle, and it finally stopped raining this morning. Things are looking pretty good.”

“Except… the other Flynn is still out there.”

Yuri’s smiled faded. “Yeah, there’s that. I wonder where he went?”

Flynn frowned and rubbed his chin. “I think… he didn’t go far. I suspect he’s still in Zaphias somewhere. At least, that’s what I would do.”

“Do you think he’s going to come after you again?”

“No… not me. There would be no point. He knows he can’t usurp my position as commandant again, because as soon as he begins enacting his own ideals, everyone will suspect it’s the impostor again. But, I think you need to be careful. I suspect he may come after you again.”

Yuri rubbed his neck, which was still sore. “Me? Come on, haven’t I had enough trouble in life? I’m pretty offended that a version of you wants me dead so much.”

Flynn grimaced, which wasn’t pretty on his mangled face. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t get it.” Yuri shook his head. “When I first arrived, he was all over me. He even….” Yuri glanced at Flynn. He hadn’t told him about the kiss, partly because he was afraid of seeing Flynn react with disgust. Yuri wasn’t sure how to raise the subject of, ‘the other Flynn kissed me and I didn’t like it but I’d like to try it with you, if that’s all right’. “He was very affectionate until I told him I couldn’t support his plan, and then he did a total one-eighty and tried to get me killed. Weird how he could flip from love to hate so fast.”

Flynn shook his head. “No, it isn’t weird. The opposite of love isn’t hate, Yuri. It’s apathy. Love and hatred are the same obsession, just through a different lens. When you rejected him, he realized he couldn’t love you and there was too much of it to simply disappear, so it was re-purposed into hatred. I mean, he’s been in love with you since he was thirteen; that level of devotion couldn’t just disappear.”

Yuri raised his eyebrows. “He… what? Thirteen? How do you know?”

Flynn suddenly met Yuri’s eyes with panic. “I didn’t mean - I just - I understand him, that’s all.”

A flutter of hope trembled in Yuri’s chest. “You know, if he hadn’t been evil… I think I would have been much more, uh, receptive.  Like when he kissed me.”

“He - he kissed you?”

Yuri looked away.  “Yeah.  Just after I accused him of murdering Lenore.  That was kind of a deal-breaker.”

“So….”  Flynn trailed his fork around the plate, concentrating on it rather than Yuri.  “If you didn’t think Flynn had killed Lenore… and he was just normal Flynn… that wouldn’t be a deal-breaker?”

Yuri swallowed heavily and glanced back at the pink cheeks below eyes stubbornly fixed on his lunch.  “I think I would be ok with kissing normal Flynn.  That is, if normal Flynn wanted me to.”

Flynn glanced up and met Yuri’s eyes.  “Normal Flynn would be alright with that.”

Yuri looked around the room and then heaved a sigh.  “Too bad there’s no sign of him.  All I have here is Weirdo Flynn.”

Flynn kicked Yuri from under the blanket.  “Get over here.”

Yuri got to his knees and crawled up the bed.  His fists pressed into the mattress on either side of Flynn and he leaned over the lunch tray until his lips met Flynn’s.  It was the softest kiss Yuri had ever given, because he was concerned about blood and swelling still around Flynn’s mouth.  What it lacked in physicality, it made up for in a release of tension as they both celebrated that after all they’d been through, they were here, together.  This was the only Flynn for him.

And then Yuri pulled back, grabbed the cookie off the tray, and hopped off the bed.  “Excellent, the distraction worked.”  

Flynn’s eyes fluttered open and his head shot from the tray to Yuri.  “Yuri!  Give that back!”

Yuri laughed and snapped the cookie in two.  “If we’re going to be  _ together _ -together now, we need to share more things, right?”  He tossed the larger half back to Flynn’s tray.

“Thief,” Flynn grumbled.  

Yuri laughed, “Get well soon,” and then left the room.

  
  



	15. The Real Flynn

Flynn opened his eyes slowly.  He felt like he’d been hit by a battering ram.  The sun nearly blinded him and he turned his face away so his cheek rested on grass.  What… had happened?  This wasn’t where he was supposed to be.  The last thing he remembered was climbing the Sword Stair… then attempting to destroy the Adephagos… and then he’d….

With a groan, Flynn sat up.  He stared at his hands, turning them over and rubbing his fingers together.  He recalled the horror of seeing his flesh dissolve away, but they seemed concrete now.  His head tilted back to take in the clear blue sky.  He squinted against the sun, shocked by what he saw.  Rather, shocked by what he didn’t see.  Surely the device hadn’t worked, considering it had nearly destroyed him. The sky above was clear and empty save for the clouds, however.  Relief gushed through him.  It had worked!  It had really worked!  The Adepahgos was destroyed, he wasn’t dead, and now he could continue pursuing Alexei’s dream for a stronger, united Empire.  

Flynn got to his feet and took in his surroundings.  He stood in a field, with mountains in the distance.  When he turned, he spotted a tree at least a mile away, but so tall he could still see it.  He frowned with confusion, because the only tree he knew of that could be that tall was the one in Halure, but it had withered ages ago, while this one was covered in pink blossoms.  Still, it was the only  thing around as far as he could see, so he began the trek toward it.  

He eventually came upon a dirt road leading toward the tree.  This only heightened his confusion, because he was certain he recognized the area.  The road winding through the plain, the massive tree ahead, the mountains encircling the region… it had to be the Peyoccia Plains.  When they’d flown by this morning, Halure’s tree had still been dead.  Had the elimination of the Adephagos restored it?  Fat lot of good it would do now that all the residents were dead.  With that thought, he pressed a hand to the blastia on his chest.  It was cold and still.  It had already been fading when he reached the top of the Sword Stair, so he guessed the huge blast of energy he’d endured had fizzled the last of its energy away.  That meant he was unprotected in Ilyccia, but he didn’t feel weak.  Could destroying the Adephagos have also destroyed the formula that killed Ilyccia’s population?  It was too much to hope for. 

The clopping of hooves alerted him to a cart approaching.  Flynn stood by the side of the road and stared in surprise as an elderly man steered a small cart down the road.  The formula vanishing he could believe, but this man couldn’t have returned to Ilyccia so quickly.  If he’d been here this morning, he’d be dead.  How long had Flynn been gone?  He dreaded to think that months and months had passed.  

“Ho, there,” the man said as he drew up next to Flynn.  “Don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

Flynn looked around.  “I beg your pardon?  What is?”

The man gestured at Flynn.  “Your clothes.  If it’s for a costume party, I think it’s in poor taste.”

Flynn looked down at his red uniform and tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with it.  “What offense do you take from it?”

The man looked at him like he was stupid.  “You go around wearing the uniform of the Royal Guard, and people are going to think you supported Alexei’s coup.  Commandant Flynn didn’t resurrect the colour in the reformed Knighthood for a reason.”

Something very strange was going on.  He kicked the impulse to blurt that he was Flynn and would know if he’d gotten rid of his own uniform, but it was obvious that the man knew more about the situation in the world than he did, so he decided to play dumb and figure out just what was going on.  “I’m sorry.”  He tugged at the hem of his shirt. “It’s the only clothing I have.  I’m afraid I’m lost.”

“Hmph.  Well, hop on up here, if you don’t mind going to Halure.”

“Thank you.”  Flynn climbed up to sit next to the man.  

“Where did you come from?”

After a long pause, Flynn decided that he would get the most information by telling the truth.  At least, a version of it.  “I’m not sure.  I woke up in the field with nothing on me but these clothes and an empty wallet.  My head hurts terribly, though.  I think I might have been attacked by bandits, who gave me a blow to the head.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  What’s your name, son?”

“Flynn… Lowell.”

“Oh, yeah?  Like the commandant.  Bet you hear that all the time, eh?  That last name sounds familiar, too, I think.”

Flynn smiled a little.  “Yes.  Just like the commandant.  Tell me, you said that’s Halure ahead, correct?  When did the tree blossom?”

“Huh?  You really did hit your head, didn’t you?  It blossomed almost a year ago when the princess and her friends passed through.”

“The princess?”

“Sure.  Princess Estellise showed up with a young man and a little boy.  They went to the forest to make a panacea bottle to save the tree, and then she did some magic mumbo-jumbo and it erupted into flowers.  Truly amazing.”

Flynn stared at the tree ahead and tried to work this into his knowledge of the timeline.  The tree hadn’t been reformed when he went to stop the Adephagos, but the man had said this happened almost a year ago. He’d consider that maybe he’d been gone for over a year, but Princess Estellise couldn’t have done it after Flynn disappeared, because she was dead.  He would have known if she’d left the castle at any point before Schwann picked her up.  “Who were the people with her?”

“Ah… sorry, I can’t remember their names.”

“And the town of Halure… it’s prospering?”

“Sure, as much as we ever have.  There was a bit of a disruption when a bunch of refugees from Aspio showed up about five months ago, but we’re all settling again.”

Flynn swallowed heavily.  The destruction of Aspio had only been five months ago, just as it had been this morning.  He hadn’t travelled through time.  “What do you remember of the Adephagos?”

“That calamity in the sky?  Why?”

“It’s one of the few things I have solid memories of.  I want to verify if they’re correct.”

“Ok, then.  Well, I don’t really know much about it.  They say Alexei released it before he died, it hung about up there for a little while, and then Commandant Flynn led a group in destroying it and they used up all the blastia to do it.”

“All the blastia?”

“Yeah, that’s why we have no blastia anymore. This was all about… four months ago, or so? Anyway, the guilds and the knights have been working together to defend cities ever since.  That what you remember?”

“Yes…” Flynn said softly.  “That’s right.”  

“We’re going to arrive in Halure soon.  I have some spare clothes back there if you want to change.  It’ll cause some upset if you parade about in that uniform.”

“Thank you.”  Flynn moved to the back of the cart to begin changing.  He was reaching a theory, even if it terrified him.  The device had punched a hole in their universe, and Witcher said it would suck the Adephagos out.  But what if… what if the Adephagos wasn’t the only thing that got sucked out?  When his body was swallowed by the light, what if it pulled him out too?  And now he was here, in another world where things had apparently turned out differently.  The Adephagos had been destroyed months ago - by a different version of himself, no less - and the formula that killed all of Ilyccia hadn’t had a chance to do its damage.  

“Oh!” the man snapped his fingers.  “I just remembered the names of the people with the princess when she saved the tree.  There was a little boy, Karol Capel, and a young man about your age.  I remembered because he has the same last name as you: Yuri Lowell.”

Flynn had just put on a fresh shirt when he stared at the man.  “Yuri Lowell?”

He nodded.  “Yep.  Seemed like a nice boy.  I think I recall hearing his name a few other times.  The commandant mentioned him in a speech after the Adephagos.  Said he was a good friend and he couldn’t have done it without him or something.  You all right, son?”

Yuri was alive.  It was too good to be true.  Here was a world where Yuri lived, the princess lived, the Adephagos was gone, Ilyccia was thriving, the Empire and the Union had found peace… it was everything he could have dreamed of.  “I’m fine.”  He hopped down from the cart at the edge of Halure.  “Thank you for the lift.”

The world he’d come from had been on the brink of collapse.  Even if he knew how to get back, he doubted it could be saved.  The Adepahgos hadn’t seemed to react when he unleashed the device, so he doubted it would even be gone if Flynn found his way back there.  Instead, he’d found something even better: an unspoiled world where everything had worked out.  This was the world as it was meant to be; the world he wanted  to share with Yuri.  After everyone he’d lost, he finally had a chance to be… dare he even think it…  _ happy _ .  

There was only one problem: there was already a Flynn Scifo taking his place here.  Well… that could be worked around.  

* * *

 

When Yuri entered the kitchen, Flynn was just sitting down with a bowl of cereal. 

“Good morning,” Flynn said.  “Sleep well?”

“You hogged the blanket.”  Yuri dropped into the chair across from him.  “Why are you up so early, anyway?  It’s your last day of vacation; sleep in a little.”

Flynn had been released from the castle infirmary after a day.  The doctor said there were no serious health concerns and that with some rest and food he’d recuperate in no time.  Flynn had taken a week off from work to recover at home, and would head back to the castle tomorrow to resume his duties.  It had been a nice week.  Flynn had spent most of it lying in bed and relishing warm blankets and soft pillows. Yuri insisted on staying with Flynn under the guise of looking after him while he was recovering, though at one point Flynn had breathlessly reminded Yuri, while lying in bed, that he wasn’t supposed to wear him out. 

“I’m tired of being on vacation.  I want to get back to work.”

“Weirdo.”  Already Flynn had done some work in the form of cancelling the order to execute surplus criminals.  He hadn’t been able to prevent a handful of hangings from already taking place, and so spent even more time personally writing to the families of the condemned to apologize and convey his remorse.  

The official story was an evil twin, which Yuri thought sounded like something Karol would have come up with, but he couldn’t think of a better explanation.  According to the report presented to the Council, Flynn had an identical twin brother who had been separated from him at birth, and the brother had come back to try to take over his life.  It was close enough to the truth, and easier to believe.  The most important thing was that Flynn wasn’t held accountable for the actions of his double.  

“I just want things to go back to normal.”  

“I guess I can appreciate that.”

Flynn swirled his cereal around the bowl.  “Although… and this is something I can’t stop thinking about… do you think there’s a danger of me becoming like, well, like him?”

“Huh?”  Yuri straightened up in his chair.  “What are you going on about now?”

“It’s something I’ve been worried about.  The only thing that changed between our worlds is that you died when we were kids.  That was enough to send him… to send  _ me  _ down a path into becoming… that.”

Yuri shook his head.  “First of all, the other me died when we were kids.  If I died now, you’re already an adult, so you’re not as impressionable.  Second, that may have been the catalyst, but who knows what other things happened to him along the way that screwed him up?  You’re nothing like him.”

Flynn frowned.  “That’s the thing, though.  When I thought you might be dead, I wanted to kill him.  I was so filled with hatred and the desire to make him suffer in revenge for what I feared he’d done to you.  I understand how he felt about Avondale, and I can’t say with certainty that I wouldn’t have done the same thing if he’d succeeded in killing you the other night.”

“You wouldn’t have.”  Yuri thought for a moment.  “Would you?”

“I don’t know.”  Flynn leaned forward and rested his head in his hand.  “I always thought I wouldn’t, ever, but I wonder if that’s because I always thought it wasn’t even an option.  Now that I know I’m  _ capable _ of that sort of cruelty, I feel… like I have to put conscious effort into holding the beast at bay.  Because, the thing is, everything he’s done… they’re things I’ve thought about.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow.  “Having me killed?”

Flynn gave him a quick, dark smile.  “As if I’ve never wanted to kill you, of all people.”  He shook his head.  “Seriously, though.  The thought of just killing criminals so the state doesn’t have to support them in prison, or pushing for more control over the Council, or killing monsters myself if they’ve slipped through the cracks.”

“What are you talking about?  You’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about that.”

“How I’ve  _ decided  _ I feel about that.  Of course I wanted to kill Ragou. I wanted him dead, and I wanted to punch him in the face until it was black and blue before I did it.  But I didn’t, because I had decided that that wasn’t the way things should be done.  When the Council is stupid, I want to punch them, too.  When a suspect refuses to divulge information that I need, I think about how much easier it would be if I could beat them up until they cracked.  Everything this other Flynn has done… I’ve thought about doing.  I’m not really that different.”  He gazed sullenly into his cereal.  “I think there’s something wrong with me.  What if something happens and I snap like he did?  And I start doing all those horrible things?  All that evil is inside me.  So many people put me on a pedestal, but… but I’m not a very good person.  I’m petty, and spiteful, and arrogant,and cruel, and vindictive, and it’s only conscious thought keeping that monster in check.”

Flynn ate a few glum spoonfuls of cereal while Yuri tried to piece together a response.  It took nearly a minute, but then he said, “And you think I’m any better?”

Flynn frowned.  “You may be a bit more cavalier with the law, but you know I’ve always respected you.  Whenever you do something questionable, it’s for the good of others.”

Yuri shrugged.  “Yeah, but the same is true for you.  I’m a piece of shit too, Flynn.  I killed Ragou for justice, but I can’t deny there was personal satisfaction there, too.  I take pleasure in seeing high-born people fall on hard times.   I’ve envied you since we were kids - you know how many times growing up I just wanted to strangle you?  When I walk into a store, I think about how easy it would be to cause a distraction and then slip some gald from the till into my pocket.  I’ve thought about slapping Rita when she won’t shut up about something.  I find myself hoping certain guild leaders will be killed because they’re irritating or make things difficult. I’m not a good person, either.”

“But… you would never do those things.”

“No.  I wouldn’t.  They’re terrible.”  Yuri shrugged.  “I can’t decide the thoughts that pop up in my brain, but I can decide what I think of them.  Everyone is a bastard, Flynn.  Everyone.”

“I really don’t think  _ everyone _ -”

“Yes, everyone.  The only reason you think you’re so terrible is because you know what you  _ could  _ have done, but didn’t.  But the thing is, literally every person has petty, cruel, or vindictive ideas, which is why so many people think they aren’t very good compared to saints like the perfect Commandant Flynn.  Those thoughts you have aren’t monstrous at all - they’re human.  Good people aren’t people who never even think about doing terrible things.  They’re people who think about them, and then decide not to do them.  Like you.”

“You really think so?”

“Sure.  Don’t get too hung up on this.  You’re not unique in that you have the potential to be evil.  I bet in some alternate universe, the timeline shifted another way and Estelle ended up being a sadistic monster.”

Flynn contemplated his cereal for a few moments and then nodded.  “Thank you, Yuri.  I do feel better.”

They had a restful morning after that.  The whole week had been a lot of lying around and enjoying the new dimension their relationship had taken, and Yuri wasn’t looking forward to Flynn going back to work tomorrow and him returning to Dahngrest.  A little before lunch, a knock came to the door and Yuri jumped up to let in the pile of friends.  After such a quiet morning, the house seemed terribly loud with all the greetings.

“Flynn!”  Estelle ran across the living room to throw herself at him.  “You’re really ok, right?”  She pulled back, still clutching his shirt.  “Oh, your poor face.  Here, let me fix that.”  She had healed every vestige of an injury before he could even protest that he was fine.  “And you!”  She spun around and returned to Yuri.  He had started to open his mouth to say hi, but then she slapped him across the face.  

“Ow, hey!”  Yuri rubbed his cheek.  “What was that for?”

“How could you not tell me what was going on?!”  Her balled up fists landed on her hips.  “I should have known something was terribly wrong when you actually wrote to me.”

“Yeah, Yuri!” Karol said.  “You should have written to us for help as soon as you realized how serious it was!”

“Ah… sorry about that.  In my defense, by the time I realized what was going on, I was either in jail or in hiding.”

“I’m just so relieved that both of you are ok,” Estelle said, hugging Flynn again.

“Are all of you staying in Zaphias overnight?” Flynn asked.

“That was the plan,” Judith said.  “We’ll head back to Dahngrest tomorrow afternoon.”

“Mind if we crash at your place at the Comet, Yuri?” Raven asked. “I think we can split all of us between two rooms and save the gald, if ya share.”

“Go for it,” Yuri said.  “I’ve been staying with Flynn this week.”

“You’re welcome to stay here,” Flynn said.  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  “If Judith and Rita don’t mind sharing the double bed in my guest room, Karol sleeps on the couch, Lady Estellise spends the night in her room at the castle, and Raven takes Yuri’s room at the Comet, you won’t need to pay for an extra room at all.”

“That sounds good,” Karol said.  “Hey, wait.  Where is Yuri going to sleep?”

Flynn froze. “Uh.”

Judith raised her eyebrows.  “Oh?  Is Yuri not sleeping in your guest room?  My goodness, whose bed is he sleeping in then?”

Raven chuckled, Rita rolled her eyes, Estelle gasped and clapped her hands, and Karol looked between the rest, thoroughly confused.  

“I don’t get it.”  Karol wrinkled his brow.  “If Yuri’s been sleeping at Flynn’s house, and there are only two beds here and he’s not in the guest bedroom, then… what?”

Flynn blurted, “Let’s go out for lunch!”

On their way out the door, Yuri heard Karol saying, “Ohhhhhh.”

* * *

 

Yuri arrived at the castle the next day to share a final lunch with Flynn.  He’d head back to Dahngrest this afternoon and get back to ordinary guild missions.  He let himself into Flynn’s office to wait, because Flynn was in a meeting until noon. It was supposed to be only a few minutes, but Yuri didn’t have much faith in Flynn’s meetings ending on time.  He strolled to the window and looked out at the garden, where the flowers were more colourful than ever thanks to the influx of rain.  There had been a light sprinkle this morning, but it seemed like the weather from hell was finally clearing up.  The atmosphere had probably used up all the moisture available.

Yuri turned around when the door opened.  He smiled at Flynn as his heart gave a lurch.  After a week, it still caught him off guard every time he thought about the fact that Flynn was more than a friend now.  “Hey. Did your meeting get out early?”

“Only by a few minutes.”  Flynn met Yuri by the desk and rested his hand on Yuri’s arm.  “Were you waiting long?”

“Way too long.  The things I put up.”  He smiled and shook his head.  “Ready for lunch?”

“Hm… since I got out early, perhaps we have a couple of minutes?”  He tugged Yuri closer and slipped his hand to Yuri’s waist.

“Oh, is that how you want to be?” 

Flynn pushed Yuri’s hair behind his ear and then rested that hand on his shoulder.  “With how long I waited to have this with you? Yes..”

Their bodies pressed together and Flynn’s lips brushed Yuri’s chin.  

“So demanding,” Yuri muttered as Flynn’s hand on his shoulder squeezed  The hand on his waist left but Flynn made up for it with the trail of kisses along his jaw.  “I love you, honey.”

Flynn pressed closer.  “I love you, too.”

Yuri twisted to the side and avoided the knife.  He took a few staggered steps out of the way and then whipped out his sword.   “As if Flynn wouldn’t react to me calling him ‘honey’ of all insipid things.”

Flynn hadn’t gotten his sword out in time.  He clutched the knife and glared at Yuri, daring him to move.  

“Put the knife down. You’ve already lost, so stop making this worse for yourself.”

“Just tell me one thing.”  Flynn breathed heavily.  “Why did you push me away when you seem so eager to bump uglies with… with  _ him _ .”

Yuri snorted.  “You have to ask?  It’s because you’re an asshole who doesn’t give a crap about other people’s lives.  I’m in love with Flynn, not anyone who happens to share his face.”

“ _ I’m _ Flynn!  I’m not some impostor as you claim.  I’m real, I’m me, I’m just as much Flynn as that other guy is!  Why reject me, but not him?!  Why am I not good enough?!”

“You tried to hang me!”

Flynn threw his knife, forcing Yuri to dive out of the way.  As he was distracted, Flynn took off across the office.  Yuri raced after him, but the small head start was enough for him to get out of the room and slam the door shut.  Yuri heard the lock click and slammed his fist on the door.  “You coward!  It’s no wonder I didn’t want to bang you!”

* * *

 

Flynn ran away from his office.   _ I’m Flynn.  _  The words furiously ran through his head over and over.  In the week since his double had escaped, he’d watched the story unfold with fury.  Everybody said “the real Flynn”, as if the version of himself in this universe was somehow more real, more Flynn, than he himself was.  As if he was nothing but a shadow of the ‘correct’ version of himself.

That was all bullshit!  Had he not lived twenty-one years in this life?  Had his experiences not happened?  He was real, he was alive, and he deserved to exist as Flynn as much as the other guy did.  Maybe he wasn’t as stupidly optimistic, and maybe he had seen past the protective veil of optimism his other version was still wrapped in, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t real.  He was Flynn Scifo, he was Yuri’s best friend, he was a knight, he was a real person, dammit! 

His plan to usurp this world’s Flynn had been ruined.  Of course, it was the Butcher’s fault.  If he hadn’t killed Lenore and made Yuri start doubting him, and then distracted Flynn with the need to find him and get revenge, Yuri would never have found out the truth.  Flynn had once thought the world was cursed, but now he suspected the curse lay with him because even in a whole new universe, nothing worked out right for him.  Why couldn’t life ever be easy?  Why did everything good in his life have to be destroyed?  He couldn’t even successfully kill Yuri.

Well, he was done with this.  He’d lurked in Zaphias all week for a chance to get revenge on Yuri and the other Flynn, but if that didn’t work out, he was just going to leave.  The plan was still hazy in his mind, but it involved running from Zaphias as far as he could, maybe out to Yurzorea.  He’d liked the environment when he moved there at the end of the world in the other universe.  He’d head out there and live a simple life.  No knights, no goals, no hopes to lose or dreams to be crushed.  Maybe then he could finally live a life without heartbreak.  

Around a corner, he nearly crashed into Sodia.  “Oh!  Excuse me, sir.”

Flynn slowed to a stop.  “No.  I’m sorry.  It was my fault.”

“Did your meeting go well?”

Flynn nodded slowly.  “Yes… just as I expected.”  He liked Sodia. She hadn’t existed in his other life - or at least, he’d never met her.  He wished he had, though, because she was a reliable ally.  If not for her faith in him, he never would have gotten out of the castle the night they arrested Avondale.  

“Sodia!”  

Both of them startled at the other Flynn’s voice.  

“Get away from him.”  The other Flynn strode down the corridor from the other end.  

Sodia whipped her eyes back to Flynn and jumped back.  “You!”

Flynn shook his head and drew his sword.  “Don’t listen to him.  I’m Flynn.  I knew that impostor would come back eventually.  Help me take him down.”  

Sodia kept turning her head between them as if she could find some physical difference in their faces.  

“That’s nonsense,” the other Flynn said.  He drew his sword as well and slowly closed the distance between them.  “Sodia, your favourite colour is purple.  You told me that when we pulled an all-night preparing a report a few months ago.”

Sodia’s sword flashed out of its sheath and she faced Flynn.  “Impostor!”

“No!  Ok, so maybe he’s the Flynn native to this world, but that doesn’t mean I’m not Flynn.  Haven’t I been a good commandant while I’ve been here?  You supported me as long as you thought I was the other one.”

Sodia shook her head.  “You fooled me and took advantage of my loyalty.  I stand with Flynn - the  _ real  _ Flynn Scifo.”

Flynn lunged at her with a flash of rage and Sodia wasn’t fast enough to block the strike.  His blade sank into her shoulder and cut into her chest as Flynn shouted, “I  _ am  _ Flynn!”  Now even Sodia had turned against him.  Everybody preferred the other Flynn; he was never good enough.  That Flynn was unspoiled by the pessimism of life and nobody wanted a version of Flynn that couldn’t be so chipper about the world.  

The other Flynn charged forward with a roar of fury.  Sodia sank to the ground, gasping and clutching her injury.  Flynn brought his sword up to block the attack from the other Flynn.

As their swords met, the other Flynn said, “Let’s see how a fight goes when we’re on equal footing.”

Flynn pushed him off and stepped over Sodia.  Their blades clanked once more.  “You really think you can beat me?  You, who’s lived such a coddled life?”

“I’m sorry you think that.”  He was stepping back, on the defensive now.  “Sorry that things have gone so wrong for you that you think my life in comparison has been coddled.”

“I don’t want your pity!”

“I’m not offering you pity.  I’m offering understanding.”

The other Flynn wasn’t even giving this fight his all.  He was obviously on the defensive, and the strikes Flynn blocked were aimed at incapacitating, not killing.  The arrogant bastard pitied him.  Well, that gave Flynn the advantage at least.  They were physically evenly matched and predicted each other’s moves before they happened. But Flynn had been trained under the commandant himself, and he was actually going for the kill.  This would be over soon enough.  

* * *

 

Yuri left the office at a run.  A knight had let him out after hearing his banging, and watched him with confusion as he dashed out without explanation.   He guessed Flynn would be heading for the exit, so he followed the route.  That bastard better not have escaped already.  Yuri didn’t especially want him dead, but he didn’t like the idea of him walking free and able to come back to try to kill him again at any time.  

He skidded around a corner and stopped short.  At his feet, Sodia lay motionless with blood steadily accumulating under her shoulder.  In the middle of the hall, two Flynns were on the ground, swords discarded.  One of them straddled the other and gripped his collar in his fist.  As Yuri arrived, the Flynn on top slammed his fist into the other Flynn’s cheek.  

First he checked Sodia, because neither Flynn seemed at risk of dying.   She was unconscious, but a quick check proved she was still breathing.  Yuri ripped the sash off of his waist and pressed it against the gash cutting from her shoulder down to the top of her breast.  He wrapped it around her armpit as tight as he could and then turned to  the Flynns.

“Why do you get everything?!” the Flynn on top shouted.  “Why is your life so easy?!”

The Flynn on the bottom, the one Yuri was certain was his own Flynn, coughed on blood.  Estelle had healed him just yesterday, but already blood trickled down his nose once more.  

“It isn’t fair!” the Flynn on top shouted and Yuri realized he was crying.  “Why did everything work out for you!?  Why do you get Yuri, and to be the commandant, and a stable world and Schwann and everything else?!”  He threw another punch and choked on a sob.  “What did you ever do to deserve it all, huh?  What did I do to deserve this?”

Yuri strode down the hall, sword in hand.  The crying Flynn’s punches didn’t seem to carry much strength anymore.  He didn’t even look up as Yuri approached.  

He threw another punch, more for the principle than anything else.  “Why did I have to get saddled with this rotten life?  Why can’t I just be  _ you _ ?!”

Yuri held his sword against Flynn’s neck.  “Put him down.”

Both Flynn’s sat still.  The attacking Flynn took a deep breath.  “Or what?  You’ll kill me?”

The real Flynn met Yuri’s eyes and gave a tiny shake of his head.  

“I’d rather not.”

He let out a mix of a chuckle and a sob.  “Go ahead.  I dare you.”

Yuri sighed.  He kept his sword level with one hand, and with the other he grabbed the back of Flynn’s collar and yanked him back.  Flynn let go of his double and then Yuri tossed him to the ground. The impostor curled on his side, breathing heavily.  

“You ok?” Yuri asked to the real Flynn, who was sitting up.

Flynn wiped blood from his upper lip with his sleeve.  “Fair enough.”

Yuri pointed his sword at the impostor Flynn.  “Get up.  You’re pathetic.”

Flynn sobbed with his face buried in his arms.  

Yuri rolled his eyes.  “Look, you’ve lost.  Just-”

The real Flynn rested a hand on Yuri’s arm.  “Wait.”  He crouched and then put a hand on the other’s shoulder.  “Flynn?  Flynn, listen to me.”

The other Flynn twisted his neck enough to face him and took a shuddering breath.

“Flynn, listen.   Your life hasn’t gone as planned.  I’m sorry and it isn’t your fault.  You didn’t choose to live through the tragedies you did, but you can choose how you react to them.  You don’t have to fight me for a place in this world. You could be different.  You could live here as yourself, instead of taking my place.”

Yuri watched the Flynns warily, not sure this was a good idea.  But, he supposed that if Flynn was the one who had been kidnapped and beaten, and Flynn was the one with an evil twin, it was up to him to decide what to do with the guy.  

“Terrible things happened to you,” Flynn continued in the voice he used around skittish horses.  “But you can choose to put that behind you and try to be a good person.  Choosing to do good for others has made me happy in life, and it could for you, too.  I want to help you.”  He wiped his mouth again as talking made blood dribble down his lip.  “Let me help you.”

The other Flynn panted and stared at Flynn with confusion.  Finally, he pushed himself into a seated position and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes.  “It’s too late.”

“No, it’s not.” The real Flynn shook his head.  “It’s never too late to choose the right thing.  If you want contentment in life like I have, then I can help you live more like me.  What do you say?”  He held out his hand.

The other Flynn stared at it for a long minute.  Then, his arm slowly extended and clasped around it.  He looked up and met Flynn’s eyes warily.  “You’d let me share this world?”

Flynn smiled.  “Of course.  I don’t think there’s a rule anywhere that says a world can only have one copy of a person.  Besides, we’re not the same person.  Our difference experiences have made us unique people.  We can both live here.”

“I don’t deserve kindness from you.”

Flynn shrugged.  “You didn’t deserve cruelty from the world, either.  I’m just trying to counter the balance.”

Flynn squeezed his eyes shut, letting the last few tears drip down his cheeks.  He breathed, “Thank you.”

Flynn straightened up and helped the other Flynn to his feet.  “Now come on.  Sodia needs to go to the infirmary.  Then you can come home with me.”

 


	16. Epilogue

It had been a strange month, to be sure.  Flynn had never thought he’d get a roommate, and he certainly hadn’t thought the roommate would be himself.  On the plus side, it meant that they both liked things done the same way.  After living with Yuri for most of their teen years, it was great to finally live with someone who shared his belief that clothes belong in dressers, not on the floor, and always promptly did the dishes because he hated them lying around as much as Flynn did.  

His roommate’s name was Sam.  They had discussed this on the first day, because as much as Flynn recognized the other as being just as much Flynn Scifo as he was, both of them having the same name would make things very confusing.  Sam had agreed that since Flynn already had a public image with the name Flynn, it made the most sense for him to change.  Neither of them were very good at thinking up names, so they’d given the task to Estelle.  Flynn was pretty sure his counterpart had ended up being named after a book character.  

Before Sam’s first meeting with Estelle, they’d had one of their first of many talks.  

“I don’t know what to say to her,” Sam had confessed as they waited in Flynn’s office for her to come by.  

“Just say hello.”

“The last time I saw her, I watched Alexei kill her.”

Flynn swallowed and folded his hands on the desk.  It had only been a day since his doppelgänger had agreed to try to become better, and so far they hadn’t had many serious discussions because Flynn wanted to take it slow and gain his trust first.  “Well… you could try apologizing.  She isn’t the same Estellise as the one who died in your world, but it might make you feel better.”

“I’m not sure if I am sorry, though.”

“You’re not sorry she died?”

Sam leaned against a wall and crossed his arms.  “Hm… I’ve always thought it was unfortunate that she died.  Later, I was upset that she’d died for no reason because it turned out releasing Zaude was a terrible idea.  But I’m not sure it counts as regret if it’s based on regretting that the sacrifice was unnecessary, rather than regretting that a sacrifice was made in the first place.”

“Uh… no, I don’t think that counts as legitimate regret.  You’re still convinced it would have been a good?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?  If the death of one person leads to prosperity for all, is that not worth it?  A perfect word is impossible, so the best we can achieve is a net positive.”  

“Hmm….”  Flynn rubbed his chin and thanked Yuri for giving him so much practice with this argument.  “While that does make sense, I think it sets a dangerous precedent.  You could potentially justify anything by reasoning that it scratches out a net positive.”

“So?  As long as there is is ultimately more prosperity than suffering in the end, the world is better.  Terrible things happen all the time; if you refuse to act for fear of instigating another one, you’ll just leave the world in the status quo, and the status quo is already terrible.”

Flynn drummed his fingers on the desk.  “The trouble with that line of reasoning is that you assume you know what the end is.  Life never ends.  If you do something terrible and justifying it with a positive outcome, then you’ll do the same thing the next time, and the next.  There will never be a conclusive ‘end’, just increasingly terrible means.”

“So you wouldn’t kill one person to save a hundred others?”

Flynn furrowed his brow.  “That is a difficult question and I think it’s much simpler than the issue with Lady Estellise.  It wasn’t as clear-cut as kill her or the rest of the Empire would die.  You wanted to kill her in order to gain the ability to improve the quality of life for everyone else.  That’s when you have to question whether the suffering of one person is worth an increase in happiness for others.”

“And you’re saying it’s not?”

“I’m saying that if you have dirty hands when you build something, your end result will be dirtied, too.  If you want a world with justice, fairness, and peace, you have to build it on a backbone of those things.  You have to choose to be greater than the base cruelty of the world if you want to lead society to a greater place.”

Sam turned away and looked out the window.  “Hm.”

He didn’t answer for a long time, and Estelle arrived before Flynn found out if he had anything else to say.

Flynn didn’t want to only bombard Sam with philosophical arguments.  It was important for him to truly feel accepted if he was going to make a home in this new world.  He took him down to the lower quarter to properly introduce him to everyone there and spent the afternoon helping out at the Comet.  Sometimes they spared together just for fun, and Sam was able to give him a few tips he’d picked up from Alexei.  After one of these sessions, they sat on the ground and leaned against a pillar surrounding the training yard.  

Sam breathed deeply and wiped sweat from his brow.  “See?  Alexei had good ideas.”

“I never denied he was a talented fighter.”

“You say Alexei was evil.  He was kind to me, though.  How am I supposed to believe he was evil after everything he did for me?”

“He was kind to you, maybe, but what about Estellise?”

Sam looked to the ground.  “It wasn’t like he  _ wanted  _ to hurt her.”

“He saw her as a tool.  Same with Captain Schwann.  He saw people as things.”

“Is that so bad?  Isn’t it good for a leader to distance themselves from the people they command, so that their decisions won’t be swayed by emotion?”

Flynn shook his head.  “You can’t look at people like things.  It’s thinking like that which leads to callousness and cruelty.  Every single human is a person with thoughts as complex as yours and a life as full and rich. If you forget that, you wind up sacrificing lives without care and spreading more grief in the world.  It’s the way James Avondale thought.  He saw lower class people as things to be used for his amusement.  You don’t want to be like him.”

“Absolutely not,” Sam said quickly.  “But Alexei and Avondale are different.  How can you even compare them?  Alexei was working toward the greater good.  I refuse to think of him as being evil.”

“No, I don’t think he was evil.  I don’t think anyone is evil, really.  I think evil is an action, not a state of being.  Like… Yuri has done some pretty shady stuff, but I don’t think he’s a bad person. Everyone has evil thoughts, but not everyone chooses to act on them.  Alexei chose to ignore empathy and use people like tools, while the Butcher chose to ignore empathy and use people as hunting game.  They were different people, but their sins shared a similar root.”

Sam’s brows furrowed.  “I… suppose… but still, he was like a father to me.”

“I’m not saying you have to hate him.  But, you should acknowledge that his actions hurt a lot of people, and that if you follow his advice, you’re going to hurt a lot of people, too.”

The month proceeded like this.  Flynn could feel Sam slowly warming to his way of thinking.  He had always trusted that Sam could be swayed; after all, they were the same person at the core.  About two weeks after his first conversation, Sam sat down with Estelle and gave her a long, thorough apology.  Flynn had watched from across the room as she kept patting his shoulder and assuring him that he’d never done anything to her personally, but Sam had been much more relaxed around her after getting that off his chest.  He did the same when Sodia returned to work after her injury, and no one who watched his attitude during the delivery could doubt the apology was deep and genuine.  

About three weeks after he’d come to live with Flynn, they were eating dinner (simple sandwiches because neither of them could cook very well) when Sam said, “Ok, look.  You talk a lot about morality, but the thing is, it just doesn’t exist.  Why should we shackle ourselves to a made up concept?”

“Well… for me, it’s because I want to.  I like living in a world where other people behave according to moral principles.  It’s just nicer all around.  Besides, morality does exist.”

“Oh, does it?  Show it to me.”

“You can’t see it, of course.  It’s just a concept.”

“One that humans made up whole-cloth.”

Flynn shrugged.  “So?  Just because it isn’t natural doesn’t mean it isn’t real.  Music only exists because people continually look at the world and think, ‘I would like this place better if it had music’.   We invented morality to help us live a better life together, so now it exists because we made it.”

“Huh.”  Sam inspected his sandwich.  “I suppose it’s like love, and hope, and justice.  We decided it would be nice if those things existed, so we decided to act as if they did.  And now, well, who can deny that hope exists?”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“If I could choose… I think I would choose to live in the world with these ideas, even if they’re manufactured.”

“The only way to keep them alive is to create them yourself.”

Sam nodded slowly.  “Yeah.  I guess I’ll have to.”

After a month had passed, Yuri returned for a visit.  Flynn greeted him at the front door with an embrace and a kiss, and then he turned around to see Sam standing in the hall to the kitchen, watching them.

“Hey,” Yuri said slowly.  “How, uh, are things with you guys?”

Flynn looked back at Sam with a smile and then said.  “Good.  We’re pretty good.  Come upstairs and put your stuff down.”  

Yuri followed Flynn upstairs and into Flynn’s bedroom.  It still felt like a novelty that Yuri was staying in his room and not the guest room.  This was just as well, because the guest room was now Sam’s room.  

“Is it really going ok?” Yuri asked when the door was closed and he sat on the bed.  “He hasn’t tried to kill you or anything?”

“No.”  Flynn shook his head.  “Honestly, it’s been fine.  Mostly we have arguments about ethics, and then he goes away to sit by himself for a while looking contemplative.  I think he’s coming around.”

“You really are something, you know?  The guy chains you up in a basement for a month, and in response, you want to help him turn his life around.”

Flynn lowered himself to the bed beside Yuri.  “This is a special case.  He isn’t just any criminal; he’s me.”

“He’s really not.  He’s his own person.”

“Yes, I know that. But deep down, we’re both wired the same.  Do you understand?”  Flynn leaned forward on his knees.  “Sometimes I think about Alexei and how once upon a time, he was an idealistic young commandant, too.  Somewhere along the line, he became corrupt and turned into the bastard we fought.  My greatest fear is that the same thing will happen to me some day.  When I see Sam shifting back to my point of view - to the idealistic point of view he had as a child - it gives me hope that if that ever does happen to me, I can be redeemed, too.  I have to try to save him so that I know that  _ I _ can be saved.”

“I guess that makes sense.”  He wrapped an arm around Flynn’s shoulders.  “You should grow a beard so it’s easier to tell you two apart.”

“Heh.  Maybe I’ll talk him into it.  I like being clean shaven.”

Yuri pressed his lips into Flynn’s jawline.  “I rather like it too.”

A few minutes later, they returned downstairs.  Yuri straightened his hair on the way down the stairs.  Sam sat on the couch in the living room and when he glanced up, Flynn noticed a flash of envy.  He didn’t say anything, though.  

“So, I hear you’re fitting in nicely.”  Yuri sat on the armrest of the couch.  

“It’s been a quiet month,” Sam said.  “After the months I had leading up to arriving in this world, it’s been nice.”

“Do you ever think about trying to go back?  Rita might be able to work something.”

Flynn settled into an armchair and stretched his legs.  “We’ve talked about that.  He’s decided no.”

Sam nodded.  “I have no idea how to get there, and trying to jump through the universe again will probably just send me to yet another timeline.  The next one might be even worse than the one I left behind.  Even if I managed to get back to my world, it’s most likely been destroyed by the Adephagos by now.  And if it isn’t, everyone I care about over there is dead.  I’m comfortable here, so I see no reason in trying to go anywhere else.”

“Fair enough.”

“Although, Yuri.”  Sam glanced to Flynn and then back to Yuri.  “Flynn and I haven’t discussed this, but I’ve thinking.  Would it be alright if I go to Dahngrest with you?”

Flynn raised his eyebrows.  “You want to leave Zaphias?”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I feel awkward here.  I often get mistaken for you.  I don’t want to join the knights as a new person, because I feel like getting away from the Knighthood and its power structure will be good for me, so hanging around the Imperial capital is rather stressful.”

“I understand.  There isn’t really anything for you to do here.”

Sam nodded.  “So, I’d like to go with you, Yuri.”  He saw Yuri’s face and quickly added, “As a friend.  Only a friend. You aren’t the Yuri I loved as a kid, and I’m not the Flynn that you fell for.  I understand.  I just want to go with your guild, and do something with my life away from the Knights.  Would that be ok?”

“Well, I can’t just invite you into our guild.  You’d have to take it up with our boss, Karol.  I don’t think there’d be a problem, though.”

Sam beamed.  “Thank you.”

Yuri rose from the couch.  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hungry.  Anyone interested into lunch at the Comet?”

“Sounds good,”  Flynn and Sam said together.  

Yuri laughed at them and shook his head.  “One of you is definitely going to need to grow a beard so I can keep you straight.”

“Maybe I will.”  Sam stroked his chin and then headed to the front door to put on his shoes.  “A goatee.  That’s what the evil twins have in comic books, isn’t it?”

“You’re not evil, though,” Flynn said.  

Sam smiled as he put his shoes no.  “No.  Not anymore.  Oh!”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small.  “Yuri, here.” A small gald coin dropped into Yuri’s outstretched hand.  “Once upon a time, you gave this to me.  You said it would be good luck.  It hasn’t really worked out for me, so I thought you should have it.  The Yuri I knew might be gone, but maybe you can carry a bit of him with you.”

Yuri closed his fist around the coin.  “I’d be honoured.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! Thanks to everyone who read along the way! And a big thank you to Suguelya, who helped me brainstorm and hash out the plot for this fic.


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